


The Moments in between the Moments Are Just as Important

by AntagonizedPenguin



Series: How Best to Use a Sword [26]
Category: Original Work
Genre: A big orgy, A/B/O, BDSM, Body Worship, Car Sex, Centipede Sex, Daddy Kink, Details in each chapter but tags include, Double Penetration, Experimenting with POV, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Just a bunch of drabbles, M/M, Making Porn, Many Many Unnecessary AUs, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Spanking, Predatory/Prey, Rape, Role Reversal, Somnophilia, Spitroasting, Teacher Kink, The Beach Episode, The sleepover episode, body swapping, sexy outfits, warnings per chapter, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 175
Words: 166,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntagonizedPenguin/pseuds/AntagonizedPenguin
Summary: A collection of drabbles for the series, mostly, written in response to prompts and requests I've received from readers of the story.





	1. Gavin/Owen, Apodyopis

**Author's Note:**

> Like the summary says, this is just a nice place for me to collect different drabbles and other short things that I've written in response to requests, previously my old and now abandoned Tumblr account, but I've since transferred it all over to my new blog, linked [here](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/). Most of them are going to be pretty short and will be noncanonical unless stated otherwise, so don't worry about impact on the main plot if you want to skip over them. :)
> 
> That said, they are often a place where I'll show a different POV to give the reader a different perspective on someone's relationship, so it's not like you won't get anything out of reading them if you decide to. And depending on what gets requested, there may well be some plot tidbits here and there, you never know. 
> 
> All usual warnings for different stories in the series apply and many of these are going to be nsfw, because that's what people like to request. Each chapter will be titled with the characters and prompt that started it, for easy navigation, and nsfw ones are marked as such. 
> 
> This first chapter is mildly nsfw because of Gavin's extremely active imagination.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/apodyopis-with-owen-and-gavin-during-a-meeting/): "Apodyopis--the act of mentally undressing someone, with Owen and Gavin during a meeting," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

It wasn’t that Gavin didn’t care about his sister’s wedding plans, he did. It was just that he cared a lot about his plans to strip Owen naked and do unspeakable things to him more. 

To be fair, he wasn’t the only one not really paying attention. Gabrielle herself looked bored to death, mom looked about ready to stab the decorators with a fork and he was pretty sure those notes dad was taking were a letter begging for help. He thought he could be excused for maybe thinking forward a little.

For all his confidence, Owen had no idea how handsome he was, and it drove Gavin to distraction all the time. He was just sitting there at the table, trying to seem interested and doing a terrible job, and all Gavin could think about was what he looked like without his clothes on.

He’d start by unlacing his boots, tossing those aside before crawling into Owen’s lap and pulling his right arm out of the sleeve, then his left, then lifting his shirt over his head and ditching that too. That would give him access to Owen’s broad chest and shoulders, to the strong form that he loved, that he wanted to eat off of all the time. He pictured those muscles, the light scar Owen had under his left nipple from a fall he’d taken as a kid, the dusting of hair across his chest and then downward, leading to his bellybutton and then downwards again, light red, hard to make out against his skin.

Then he’d take the belt off, slowly, and unlace the tight pants even more slowly. Owen’s pants always looked too tight to Gavin. And he’d pull those down, slowly revealing those powerful thighs and legs, letting them drop when they got to his knees, so he could head back up and do the same for the smallclothes, getting Owen to lift his hips as he pulled them down, letting Owen’s hard cock–Owen would be hard, Owen was always hard–spring free, revealing his balls and all those intimate places that were Gavin’s alone, and he’d let those fall to the floor too, maybe kissing those hands he loved, the shoulders, stomach, as he made his way down to the…

“Gavin.”

Shaking his head a bit and pulling his gaze away from his now mentally naked Owen, Gavin turned to face his mom. “Yes?”

“You were asked a question. Were you listening?”

Not even a little bit. “Sorry. I don’t think the northern nobility will like it if you put them that far back, but they’ll live. I’ll talk Lord Dyskin’s son into it and he’ll talk his dad into it. It’s fine.”

There was nodding, and conversation moved on. Gavin had a lot of experience covering a lack of attention in meetings like this.

Once he was sure he wasn’t about to be called on again, Gavin returned his attention to his knight, and resumed where he’d left off.


	2. Klaus, Druxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this one, except for the potential to figure out some plot things if you read this with the right information in mind.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/): "Klaus and "Druxy--Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside,” by sandofthemountain, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/i-dont-know-if-youre-allowed-to-use-this-one/).

\---

It was going to be marvelous when it was finished construction. The structure of the church was the height of modern architecture, the kind of Klaus knew would age well. Some old things looked out of place a hundred years later, but this wouldn’t be one of them. In a hundred years, five hundred, it would be stately and attractive, rather than crumbling and desolate, assuming that money was put into keeping it up.

Too bad the church, like its ideals, was built on a foundation of rot.

They didn’t know, these people, what they were building. Or where they were building, and what had used to be here. An irony, considering.

The older Klaus got, the better appreciation he developed of historical ironies. A church devoted to peace growing out of an attempt at genocide. Building an altar to a psychopath on the graves of his victims. Demonizing–literally–the people who had fought and died to save them all.

The city was new, or newer. Klaus still remembered it as it had been, before it had been wiped off the face of the world in a burst of violence that had scarred the cosmos. He’d only seen some of it before it had fallen, but he remembered the graves, the mausoleum, the obelisk, the temple where Klaus had fallen on the steps, bleeding and looking up at Nathen Jerell De’Kerken as, vacant, he held up his blade with intent to slaughter a little boy just as he’d slaughtered everyone else he’d run across.

That had been the only time Klaus had ever seen Nathen, the man at the centre of everything. He’d been an attractive man, not tall, dark-haired and looking composed even as he splattered everything in blood. A beautiful man wrapped around a rotten, corrupt and dangerous soul.

And this church that was being constructed near his grave was no different. Klaus knew, because he’d watched it be founded, been there during its early days. Klaus knew, because Klaus knew people and what they wanted and what motivated them. He’d seen enough of them, spent enough time, and he was always disappointed by what they ended up doing, by how short-sighted they ended up being.

Even his own people had gotten lost along the way, distracted by power and their own foolish disagreements. Short-sighted and foolish, refusing to listen to someone who knew what was going on.

Klaus wasn’t short-sighted. It was no longer for him to tell the humans of their folly, to tell them why building this church here was a bad idea. Why building a church at all was a bad idea.

Temples, churches, altars. No matter how strong the prisons humans built for their gods, the gods always broke free eventually. Humans and gods couldn’t exist together.

Klaus turned away from the church and the rotten foundations it stood on. The war wasn’t over and Klaus was one of the only ones who remembered that. So he left the humans to their folly and disappeared into the city that was no longer called Thunder’s Falls.


	3. Henry/Sam, Lalochezia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular set of prompts occasioned a lot of requests for Sam and Henry stuff, so of course the usual warnings for those two apply. For anyone not reading the main story in which they appear, those warnings are rape, manipulation, torture and a generally very messed up relationship between a psychopathic sadist and his victim. This particular drabble is safe for work though (as are all the ones I've gotten for them so far), so that stuff is all background, and is heavily implied at the end as well.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/sam-with-lalochezia-too-curious/): "Sam and Henry with Lalochezia--The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain,” by two anons, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“You’re a piece of shit,” Sam spat, pacing the length of the room. “A worthless, disgusting, cowardly piece of _shit_.”

Henry just watched him, read Sam’s posture as he paced. He’d moved some of the chairs and the low table a little bit so they wouldn’t be in Sam’s way, because bumping into a piece of furniture in the mood he was in would just make it worse.

“How do you even live with yourself? You’re a pustulent little cretin, filthy parasite with half a brain, I’m surprised you even mustered enough intelligence to pick up a sword. World would have been better off if you’d fucking fallen on it when you were a kid.”

It might have been. Henry didn’t know anymore. He’d thought about killing himself, more than once. But he couldn’t. Because he had a feeling that part of Sam hoped he would, and he wouldn’t give that to Sam. He wouldn’t let Sam have that from him.

Not until he was sure it would hurt Sam badly. Irreparably.

Sam was shaking as he continued on his tirade. “You’re not even going to say anything to defend yourself because you know I’m right,” he sneered. “You’re such a fucking waste of air.”

Henry just sat there, breathing loudly enough that Sam could hear him, watching Sam. He looked so young when he was like this, it almost made Henry feel bad for him. He wondered what was really bothering Sam. Henry had stopped him from ripping one of his slaves apart a minute ago and Sam had gone off on him, but something had been upsetting him all day, since they’d woken up.

Sam was so easy to read it was almost pathetic. Henry had had to learn how to deal with his moods pretty quickly if he’d wanted to survive, and it had turned out he wasn’t that hard to handle as long as he paid attention.

“Bet your parents were bloody glad when they were lit on fire, they were finally rid of you forever. Probably wished you were there with them so they could listen to you scream. Probably wished they’d killed you when you were a baby. If only they’d known what a fucking disappointment you’d turn out to be.”

“You’d know,” Henry said quietly, because Sam was working himself up farther and farther and he needed to be interrupted before someone died.

“What did you just say,” Sam hissed, spinning to face Henry, face contorted in wrath.

“You heard me. I’m not the only one in here whose parents were disappointed in him.” Henry’s parents had loved him, but that didn’t matter.

“You…”

“Your father never cared about you. He never even liked you. He regretted not killing you when you were born and we both know it.” Henry stood up. “I’m worthless? Yeah, but so are you. You’re a nasty little psychopath who doesn’t know the difference between a victim and a friend. You don’t know how to do anything but destroy what you touch, like a snot-nosed little asshole throwing a perpetual shit fit because he can’t have what he wants. You’ve never accomplished anything that actually matters and you never will and you think I’m a coward, you’re the one who had to hide behind me with my crossbow to get you away from your big bad daddy, you sniveling, stupid, weak…”

The table split into four pieces and fell into itself, and Henry’s chair flew back, the sensation of ants on his skin enveloping Henry for just a second as Sam used his magic.

Oops. He hadn’t meant to get so into that. Apparently Sam wasn’t the only one who liked to vent when he was upset.

He should have known better than to call Sam weak.

Whatever had been bothering Sam before was gone now, replaced with a real anger as Sam approached him, biting his lip. “Henry. Get on the bed. I think you need a few reminders of who you are.”

Without a word, Henry moved past Sam, heading for the bed. This, for all that it was going to hurt, was safer. Sam was a lot more predictable this way. One day Sam might realize that he as at his most easily manipulated when he was pissed off, but he hadn’t yet and until he did, it was Henry’s best defense against him.


	4. Gavin/Owen, Brontide

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/brontide-gavinowen/): "Brontide - The low rumbling of distant thunder, Gavin/Owen," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

It was just as Gavin was reaching up to dim the lamp for bed that he heard it. It was quiet, obviously far off, but there it was. Thunder. He’d always liked thunder as a kid, he thought it was cool. He’d imagine angels fighting demons in the clouds, throwing lightning bolts at each other as they stormed across the sky.

Gavin didn’t like thunder anymore.

Owen had heard it too, that was obvious by the way he’d gone suddenly pale in his chair over there, suddenly clenching his book tightly in his hands.

Gavin put his own book on the bedside table, waved for Owen to come over to the bed. “Come here,” he said, quietly.

Owen nodded, closed his book and put it aside, climbing into the bed without undressing and cuddling up to Gavin. Gavin put his arms around him, stroking Owen’s back. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here.”

“I know,” Owen whispered, nodding against Gavin’s chest. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t, and Gavin knew that. But it was okay, he understood. He kept his arms around Owen, kissed his head. “You’re fine. Promise.”

Owen nodded again, cringing when another roll of thunder sounded in the distance.

“You’re safe here, it’s far away,” Gavin whispered, rocking Owen back and forth a bit. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Owen closed his eyes tight, trying to take deep breaths as Gavin held him.

He was so strong, so brave. His dauntless knight. Seeing him like during a thunderstorm didn’t change Gavin’s vision of Owen, not in the slightest. He was only human, and humans all had fears. Having a weakness was what made him human.

It just made him stronger in Gavin’s eyes. The fact that Owen wasn’t invincible, the fact that he could be scared by something normal, made the fact that he wasn’t afraid of anything else so much more powerful. Seeing Owen like this just made Gavin appreciate his strength all the more. Just made him love Owen all the more.

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, holding Owen tight. “You’re going to be okay, Owen. You’re always going to be okay.”

“I know,” Owen whispered back. “I know.”

The thunder sounded again, still far off. It never got closer to the castle than that, but Gavin held Owen all night, keeping his dauntless knight safe.


	5. Henry, Druxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Henry and Sam one, warnings intact, though Sam sleeps through this one so it's just Henry thinking at him.

[Prompt:](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/druxy-henry/) "Druxy--Henry :)" by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/druxy-henry/). 

\---

Once upon a time, Henry would have thought that sitting there watching someone sleep was creepy. And well, it still was. But it was far from the worst thing that Henry had done lately, so fuck it. He sat there and watched Sam sleep. 

It was the only time Sam ever looked peaceful, when he was asleep. Not always, he had nightmares just like Henry did, but sometimes. Part of Henry hated that. Because they both had nightmares when they slept, but when Sam woke up, his were over. It wasn’t fair that he should get to have good dreams sometimes, that he should get to sleep peacefully. The universe should be punishing him at every turn for what he did, for what he was.

But maybe the universe didn’t care. Maybe Sam was right, and he really could do whatever he wanted.

For all that he hated it, Henry couldn’t bring himself to disturb Sam when he slept, curled up against Henry’s side, sometimes with his head on Henry’s chest, like he had now. He’d been doing that more and more. Used to be he’d start there and roll away in his sleep, but lately Sam had been gravitating towards him in the night, ending up tangled in Henry in the mornings. Henry wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

He couldn’t disturb Sam’s sleep. Not because he was afraid of the ramifications or anything. Sam would hurt him if he wanted to and there wasn’t a lot Henry could do to stop that. It wasn’t because he felt bad for waking Sam up from a good night’s sleep either–though Sam did always look tired.

Sleeping like this, Sam looked vulnerable, and it was the only time Henry got to see him like that. He looked small, and content and weak and Henry could reach right down and put his hands on Sam’s neck and Sam wouldn’t stop him. He looked human. He looked like a tired kid who needed more rest.

He looked cute, if Henry looked at him long enough, forgot who he was looking at. Sam wasn’t an unattractive person, not physically. It was his personality that made him that way.

It didn’t matter. Henry knew that being attractive didn’t mean Sam was secretly a nice guy at heart. It didn’t mean he was redeemable or that he was actually just misunderstood or any of that. Monsters could be pretty too.

But at the same time, looking at Sam like this made Henry remember that Sam was what he’d been made into, that he was just a kid who’d been encouraged to be a monster by his father. And none of that excused his behaviour–Sam was old enough to know what he was doing, and he knew that he didn’t have to do it. Sam was just as much a monster as Solomon had been.

But he was a person too, and that was important. It was important because monsters were indestructible, monsters were huge and powerful and dangerous. Humans, humans were small, weak, they could be manipulated, they could be tricked they could lose. Sam was a monster, but he was human. He had to eat and sleep and shit like all of them. He had weaknesses. He wasn’t indestructible.

If he could learn to control his personality, Henry knew, Sam would be a lot more effective. He’d be able to use that cute face of his to get people to do what he wanted instead of threatening and maiming his way through life. He was the kind of person who nobody would think was nasty until they were being tortured by him. Sam would be able to convince people that he was a victim too, if he wanted.

And Henry was grateful that Sam would never do that, because it would make him so much more terrifying. That he went out of his way to make sure his exterior matched his interior made Sam less threatening, less dangerous. If he wrapped his rotten, festering cancer of a soul in this, in this sleeping, vulnerable, innocent-looking boy, hand curled into a half-fist on Henry’s chest, making weird noises every so often, Sam would be unstoppable.

Henry never planned to tell him that. But he would watch Sam sleep, watch him unconsciously pretend to be harmless, and remind himself that it could be a lot worse.


	6. Henry/Sam, Tarantism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sam and Henry one, also safe for work.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/29/tarantism-with-sam-and-henry-atop-the-castle/): "Tarantism--The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing, with Sam and Henry atop the castle crenelations," by folkendefanel, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

The Fury Plateau was painted orange with the sunset, jagged black shadow teeth cast across it by the falling light. Henry watched them lengthen, biting on the land, chewing up the light.

It was just sundown. There was no fucking reason for him to be so melodramatic about it, he told himself, his internal voice sounding annoyingly like Sam. He should go inside before it got cold. But he didn’t want to.

“Hope you’re not considering jumping.”

Henry wasn’t even surprised to hear Sam. Of course he’d come to find him. Henry had been avoiding him for a while now, which he didn’t normally bother doing. “No. Not unless you I can pull you down with me.”

Henry was the one being pulled down and they both knew it. 

“What are you doing out here, then?” Sam asked, coming over and joining Henry on the crenelated wall, leaning against it beside him. He sniffed the air, which smelled less like sulphur today than usual.

“Just…” Henry shook his head, a hard habit to break. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Sam sighed. “We both know you’re going to tell me in the end, Henry. Just spit it out.”

Henry rolled his eyes. Fine. “It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary today.”

“Oh.” That was all Sam said. No assurances that that was stupid, no scoff, no laugh. Just oh.

“They always had a party to celebrate, they’d invite basically everyone, made it a feast for the common people as well. There was a lot of food, and music, and dancing…” Henry trailed off, smiling a little at the memory. “Anyway, it’s stupid.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sam agreed, fiddling with a piece of loose stone between his fingers. “But you’re stupid, so whatever. Cry about it if you want to.”

Henry snorted, giving Sam a suspicious look. He never knew when Sam was playing games with him and when he wasn’t. He tended to assume that Sam was always playing games with him.

Sam was standing there, shoulders slumped a little as he played with the stone chip, resting his weight on the crenelation. “And what’s bothering you today?”

Sam went tense. Sam always went tense when it was time to talk about himself. Henry assumed he probably just wouldn’t answer, or he’d make a snarky comment and call Henry something for asking. But instead he sighed. “What’s it like to have parents who love you?”

That took Henry off guard for a minute, and he watched Sam, trying to figure out where the trap was in there. But he couldn’t find it, so he had no choice but to just answer. “It’s nice,” Henry said. “You always have someone who you can talk to, and who supports you and helps you if you need it. It makes you feel safe.”

Henry watched, watched Sam react to that, watched him slump a bit more, go tense again, watched his face twist into something that might have been sad if Sam had known how to feel anything other than anger. “Stupid…” Sam muttered.

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, still watching Sam. He was a monster, Sam was, and nothing was going to change that. But he was also, Henry had realized in the last few weeks, a sad, lonely boy who really wanted someone to love him.

“Hey,” Henry said, gently putting his hand on Sam’s. Startling Sam was dangerous.

“What?”

Henry gave a tug, pulled Sam away from the wall. “Dance with me.”

“What?” Sam’s face contorted into a sneer, but Henry wasn’t deterred. He put his arm around Sam’s waist, confident that Sam wouldn’t retaliate. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, I just miss dancing at my parents’ parties. Dance with me.” Henry didn’t know why he wanted to dance with Sam. He didn’t know why he wanted to dance at all. But he did. And he put Sam’s arm where it was supposed to go, starting to move.

As Henry had thought, Sam let him “This is stupid,” he grumbled, moving awkwardly after Henry. He obviously didn’t know how to dance.

Their bodies were pressed together, their arms around each other. “Yeah,” Henry agreed. “But so am I. Indulge me for once.”

Sam let out an annoyed breath, but he kept moving, resting his head against Henry’s chest. “Fine. I don’t know what you’re after here. You don’t even like me.”

“No,” Henry agreed. “But you’re the closest thing in the world to someone I do like.”

And it was pathetic, but it was true. Henry didn’t like Sam. But Sam was the only person he had left.

And so they danced, swaying back and forth as the sun went down, swallowing the world in dark.


	7. Isaac/Peter, Lygerastia (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went full-on porn with this one, so be warned for gentle, not really private sex.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/29/would-you-be-able-to-do-lygerastia-with-isaac-and/): "Lygerastia--the condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out, with Isaac and Peter," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Isaac was sleeping with Baker. Or at least that was what he thought he was doing, until Peter’s globe of light finally went out. He’d been studying all day, and it wasn’t like Isaac was pouting that he was being ignored or anything, he knew schoolwork was important. He was pouting because Peter had made him go away every time he’d tried to kiss him, which sucked.

But when Peter’s light went out, there was a shuffling, the tap of Peter’s cane against the floor, and then a weight on his bed as Peter crawled in, not beside Isaac like he usually did when he wanted to cuddle and sleep, but right on top of him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Isaac whispered. “How was the studying?”

“It was alright, I guess.” Peter lay down right on Isaac, and kissed him. He was hard, and Isaac wondered how long that had been true. “I missed you.”

“I wasn’t the one who was hiding behind books all day,” Isaac reminded him, kissing back.

“Yeah. Sorry. But now I’m here and you’re naked, right?”

Isaac snickered. “Yeah. It’s like you’re only using me for my body.”

“Shhh…” Peter sat up, stripped out of his shirt, and there was a lot of movement that did good things for Isaac as he got the rest of his clothes off too.

When Peter rejoined Isaac, he did it under the blanket, pressing their hard ons together, grinding. Isaac put a hand around his back, keeping him in place. “You’re unusually assertive tonight,” he teased.

Peter nodded, reaching down and taking both of them in one hand. “I’ve been hard since the sun went down,” he said, panting in Isaac’s ear.

“We’d better do something about that,” Isaac was trying to keep his voice down. Baker got annoyed at them, gave a small yap and went to go sleep on Peter’s bed instead. It was hardly the first time this had happened, he’d live.

“I’m trying to do…that…ah…” Peter gasped as he came, spilling all over Isaac’s belly. He let himself go and kept stroking Isaac, kissing him all over the face as he went, until Isaac arched his back and came as well, trying to keep quiet.

“Better?” Isaac asked breathily.

“Better,” Peter confirmed, pressing against Isaac again. “But I’m not done.” His hand wandered downwards, between Isaac’s legs.

Isaac smiled, not that Peter could see him in the dark. “Spencer and Skip are going to wake up.”

“Not if we’re quiet,” Peter insisted, slipping a cum-coated finger quickly inside Isaac. Quickly, but not more quickly than Isaac could handle. Even like this, he was considerate.

So Isaac spread his legs a bit, gave Peter better access. “I guess we’ll have to be quiet, then.”

Peter grunted, slipping a second finger in. Isaac kept his mouth shut, breathing through his nose as Peter fingered him open, then withdrew and lined himself up.

“You’re so impatient,” Isaac said, stifling a laugh as Peter pressed inside.

“I’m just horny,” Peter grunted, pushing in, and in, steadily. He was audibly trying to hold back a groan as he did, and by the time he was all the way in, so was Isaac.

Peter kissed him, the better to swallow both of their noises as he started moving. He knew how to hit the right spot inside Isaac over half the time now, and try as he might, Isaac couldn’t quite not vocalize his approval of that, even as Peter made noises back to tell Isaac how much he liked being in there.

Isaac came first, Peter giving one well-timed strike to that spot, and he arched his back, swallowed a moan and splattered himself. As he was squirting his last spurt, Peter went tense, rammed into him and started to fill Isaac up with a low noise that Isaac loved.

When he was done they collapsed, Peter still inside him, panting, Peter started kissing Isaac again, on the mouth, on the shoulders.

“Feeling better?” Isaac asked.

Peter nodded, still kissing. “A lot better,” he panted.

“You’re still hard,” Isaac whispered.

“Are you guys done?” a sleepy voice drifted down from above. It was Spencer.

Oops. Isaac wasn’t embarrassed, but he did feel a bit bad for waking him up. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“My fault,” Peter added.

“Just keep it down,” Spencer grumbled, and they could hear him roll over. “Trying to sleep.”

The two of them waited a minute, until Spencer was probably asleep again. Isaac grinned in the dark. “We weren’t very good at staying quiet.”

“We just need practice,” Peter said, kissing Isaac again.

“Want to try again, see if we can get it right this time?”

“You read my mind.”


	8. Henry/Sam, Tarantism redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sam and Henry one, safe for work except for some swearing.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/29/alternate-tarantism-henry-walks-in-on-sam-venting/): "Alternate Tarantism--the urge to overcome melancholy by dancing (following up from the previous prompt on the same topic), in which Sam is forced to do the polka in front of a portrait of Solomon," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“You asshole!” Sam railed at the portrait, the one Henry had never noticed and therefore never taken down, and of course Sam hadn’t known it was there either. “I hate you, I hate you, I _hate_ you.”

He was livid, but it was hard for Henry not to laugh because he was doing some ridiculous looking dance while he ranted and raved. And it…seemed like he had been for a while.

It might be dangerous. Maybe he was going to have to dance until he died. Which would be hilarious, but Henry would have to help him.

“If you’d _fucking_ told me anything about anything, none of this would be happening! If you’d trusted me, I might not have killed you!” Sam was panting heavily, he’d obviously been at this for a while, as he danced, back and forth, back and forth.

It went on for a bit, Sam listing all of his father’s many inadequacies, getting shorter and shorter of breath. “If you’d cared about me at all maybe we could have…” Sam gave a bit of a sob, fell down all of the sudden, backed away from the picture as quickly as he could.

He got to his feet quickly, moving away from the portrait and heading for the door at a near run. Henry moved out of the way and Sam heard him. “Who…”

“It’s me,” Henry said, feeling the crawling of Sam’s power on his skin. “It’s me, Sam. I…thought I heard you yelling.” There were tears on Sam’s cheeks.

“It was nothing, there’s a…” Sam paused, tried visibly to get himself under control. “There’s a curse on something in that room. As soon as I stood too close to it I got…stuck. Briefly.”

“Yeah,” Henry said with a nod. “There’s a…a painting in there. I’ll have it taken down.”

“Have it burnt,” Sam told him, shoving past Henry and storming into the hallway. He was shaking. “I’m going to have a bath. Don’t come back until that thing is destroyed.”

He stormed off, and Henry nodded again. “Okay,” he called after Sam, waiting until he was gone to smile again.

And though he’d never have thought he could find anything related to Sam funny, Henry chuckled to himself as he went to go find someone to get rid of the portrait.

Sam was a terrible dancer.


	9. Henry/Sam, Sphallolalia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Henry, safe for work though there's some talk about sex, set a few days after chapter 20 of the main story (which was decidedly not safe for work).

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/29/sphallolalia-with-sam-and-henry-i-think-the/): "Sphallolalia with Sam and Henry, I think the reactions could be pretty hilarious," by an anon, based on [This prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“Did you mean that, the other night?”

Henry looked up from the book he’d been reading. It was an adventure novel, and he didn’t think anything about Solomon’s castle had surprised him more than finding a bunch of them in his library. They all had basically the same plot, right down to the tacky sex scenes. “Did I mean what?”

Sam was fiddling with some talisman in his hands, the buzz in the air suggesting he was doing magic on it. “Nevermind.”

“Sam?”

Sam was blushing, Henry saw. “You said I was cute. Do you really think that, or were you just fucking with me because you were horny?”

Henry blinked, remembering back to the other night. When he’d just…really wanted to fuck Sam. And it had been good. He was still confused about that. It looked like Sam was confused about that too.

And he was blushing. Henry raised his eyebrows. And then, getting an idea, he grinned. “Yeah, I did. Is that a problem?”

“No,” Sam grumbled, red deepening. “Think whatever you want. What do I care what I look like?”

“You might, if you knew the effect it had on people,” Henry teased, leaning back in the chair a little. “It’s too bad about your personality, because from the looks perspective, you’re pretty up there.”

“Shut up.” Sam swallowed, hands still moving over the trinket. The buzz of sorcery had disappeared from the air.

“Really, I’m kind of surprised you don’t have people beating down the door to get at you. You’re strong, powerful, important, easy to look at.” It was actually kind of too bad Sam was a violent psychopath. “Maybe I should be getting jealous.”

“Stop being stupid.” Sam was fidgeting now, obviously embarrassed.

“I’m just saying, if you wanted a repeat of the other night I could oblige you.” Henry didn’t know if he could. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about what had happened.

“Henry…”

“Just let me know, I’m here if you’re interested. If you’re not careful I’ll have to start keeping you locked up to so I can have you to myself.”

“Henry!” Sam was so red in the face Henry was surprised he wasn’t aflame. “I said, _shut up_.”

Henry smirked, picked up his book again. He was at a tacky sex scene. “I could be the key to your locked heart,” he read.

“If you open your mouth again I’m going to stab you.”

The next line was a hilarious flower euphemism, and Henry had to take a second to decide if it was worth it. But he just smiled, went back to the book and kept that one in his pocket for another day.


	10. Gavin, Owen/Edwin, Mamihlapinatapei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one that is not safe for work thanks to Gavin's vivid imagination. Edwin hails from a story centered around an incestuous relationship, but that doesn't come into play here.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/29/mamihlapinatapei-for-owen-and-edwin-because-there/): "Mamihlapinatapei--The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move, for Owen and Edwin, because there isn't enough punch-punch-kiss in their lives for Gavin's tastes," by folkendefanel, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/).

\---

Gavin didn’t usually follow Owen to the fortress, mostly because though he loved Owen more than flowers loved sunlight, he could only watch his beloved knight pound on other guys for so long before it got boring. Fighting just didn’t fascinate Gavin, it never had, and though he had a healthy appreciation for how good Owen was at it, and he did get a kick out of watching Owen beat up people who’d trained for years, after a while it got dull and his mind started to wander.

And Gavin’s mind tended with a lot of consistency to wander onto the same topic. 

At first it was innocent enough. He imagined Owen naked, which was easy enough since he had a pretty solid image of that in his head. He imagined Owen coming over here after every training victory and claiming his reward from Gavin for winning.

Then he decided it wasn’t fair that Owen was the only one who should be naked and he started imagining that his opponents were too. Gavin had a pretty active imagination, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch for him to just mentally undress all the squires his knight was sparing with too. They all looked pretty nice undressed, in Gavin’s opinion.

Maybe he should see about getting naked sparring day instituted at the fortress. Now that was fighting he could get behind.

Especially if the winner got to pound the loser in a different way after the match.

Gavin had the best ideas.

It wasn’t that Owen wasn’t enough for him, never that. But Gavin had been serious at the banquet when he’d suggested that he and Owen think about inviting a third person once in a while. Just for fun. Mostly because Gavin wanted to watch Owen with someone else.

Because Gavin was thinking about this, he straightened a little when Owen’s next opponent came to face him. Gavin knew that Owen liked Edwin a fair bit, he was one of the people at the fortress who Owen talked about on occasion.

What Gavin had never noticed before was the way they looked at each other. Edwin looked at Owen like he wanted to eat him. Owen looked at Edwin like he wanted to heft him over a shoulder and carry him off.

Gavin’s mind was in a bit of a haze since he’d been actively working on orgiastic daydreams for the last hour, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining that.

Their fight was electric, seeming to Gavin to be a lot more tense than the others. Owen and Edwin kept eye contact the entire time, that strange eye contact that they both had to know wasn’t normal.

They wanted to fuck.

Gavin wasn’t jealous, because he knew Owen wouldn’t. He was mostly intrigued. He watched the two of them move back and forth, imagining it happening in his bedroom and without clothes, with different swords in their hands and…

It only last for a few seconds and the Edwin was on the ground. Owen smirked down at him in a way that clearly said he wanted a reward to Gavin. Edwin glared up at Owen, sullen and looking like he half-hoped Owen would claim that reward. Then Owen helped Edwin up and Edwin stalked off, grumbling something at his knight, the one who looked like a cousin or brother, before disappearing into the crowd.

That was apparently the last of Owen’s opponents for now, because he took a long moment to give some lecture that Gavin didn’t listen to, and then he wandered over to Gavin, grinning. “You look excited.”

“I just like watching you win. You like Edwin.”

Owen looked at him, wiping some sweat from his forehead. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “He’s a good guy, pretty good fighter. You’d like him too, I think.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, smirking. Owen clearly didn’t get it yet. He would. “I bet I would.”


	11. James/Ron, Basorexia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One that requires no warnings for once!

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/basorexia-with-james-and-ron/): "Basorexia--the overwhelming desire to kiss, with James and Ron," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/).

\---

“Ron.”

“Yeah”

“Come here.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Closer.”

“Uh…okay.”

“Closer,” James said again, when Ron stopped just in front of his face.

“How close do you want me to get?”

James smiled, closed the last inch and kissed Ron. “That close.”

Ron giggled a little. James never ceased to amaze at how such a handsome, strong person could giggle like that. “Oh. You could have just said so.”

“I suppose, but where’s the fun in that?”

James was happy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy. His mind immediately cast back to before his parents had left, but even then James came up with nothing. He didn’t know if it was because his memories were all coloured by the baby’s birthday or if he really never had been this happy in his life, but either way, having Ron here was like bathing in sunlight after living underground his whole life.

James couldn’t believe he’d nearly let Ron go.

He couldn’t believe Ron had chosen to stay anyway.

“Fair enough,” Ron said, giving James one more kiss before backing away, going back to his work. He was sorting James’s jars of herbs using some strange system that James didn’t understand, but which Ron claimed would make it easier to find everything when he was done.

James was supposed to be alphabetizing the books on the shelf and moving the ones he never used to a pile so they could be out of the way. But it was boring and Ron was distracting him..He kept watching Ron work, sitting there in a ray of sunlight and humming a little to himself as he sorted. He had a few stray flower petals in his hair, which James thought were from the kiss just then. Every time they touched more of them grew.

James didn’t understand how someone could be that pretty.

Ron glanced up at him, smiling. “You didn’t forget the alphabet, right?”

“Of course not,” James said, turning back to the books, smiling to himself now. “Just watching you.”

“You’re never going to get anything done if you keep doing that.”

James disagreed. He’d get a lot of watching done. “I think watching you is more important than the books.”

Ron chuckled. “Well, that’s for you to decide, I guess.”

“Yes,” James agreed with a nod, looking for his climbing plant compendium to shelve in the proper place. “It is.” He kept his eyes on the bookshelf though, for a time. He only glanced over his shoulder at Ron every few minutes or so.

He really wanted to kiss him again.

James didn’t think anyone could blame him. He was pretty, the flowers in his reddish hair, getting long again. He needed to cut it. The way the muscles of his bare shoulders moved as he sorted and picked through the jars, the way he tapped his foot, the sound of the song he was humming, one James recognized.

Ron was so wonderful, and James didn’t know what he’d done to deserve him.

“James?”

James straightened, pretended that he’d been considering the cover of this bestiary. “Yes?”

“What’s this herb? I don’t recognize it.”

James looked over his shoulder, came over to the table. Ron was holding up a jar of something slightly yellow. James took it from him, sniffed it. “Um.” He dipped his finger inside, tasted the powder a bit. “It’s mustard.”

“Oh,” Ron took the jar back, popped the lid back on. “I’ve never seen it powdered before. Thank you.”

“You’re…” James ran his hand down Ron’s shoulder, his upper arm, watching his lips move. And he leaned down and captured those lips in his, kissing Ron and not letting him go. Ron tilted his head up, kissed him back, and James held the kiss for as long as he could before he had to breathe. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Ron said again, patting James’s cheek. “How’s it going over there?”

“Fine,” James said, starting to pull away before changing his mind and going in for another kiss. “Just perfect.”


	12. Henry/Sam, Capernoited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Henry and Sam.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/if-youre-still-doing-the-prompts-how-about/): "Capernoited--slightly intoxicated or tipsy, with Sam and Henry," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“You’re drunk.”

Henry giggled a little. “Nah. I had like one drink.”

It had been a big drink, to be fair. But Henry wasn’t drunk. He was just…something that wasn’t quite drunk. “ _Ohg’ne_.”

“What?”

“That’s the word for it in Chez’n,” Henry told Sam, swaying a little as he was pulled back to Sam’s room. To their room. “ _Ohg’ne_ , when you drink enough to make you happy, but not enough to fall over.”

“That’s a stupid word. Drunk is drunk.”

Henry laughed. “You’re funny.”

“Shut up.”

“You always say that when I compliment you,” Henry observed, nodding along to his own observation. “Don’t you like compliments?”

“I don’t like it when you act like an idiot,” Sam sighed, turning Henry around a corner. It wasn’t like Henry didn’t know the way back to their room. Sam was overreacting. 

“I think you don’t know what to do when someone’s nice to you,” Henry said, trying to keep his balance on the swaying floor. “So you’re mean to them so that you don’t have to try and be nice back.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to leave you here on the floor.”

“I can get back on my own,” Henry told him, closing his eyes. He smiled a little at the thought that Sam was the one leading them around, but he decided against making a comment about it. Sam got mad when people made comments about his blindness, and Henry didn’t want Sam to be mad. “You should be happy too. Why aren’t you _ohg’ne?_ ”

“Because wine makes you stupid, and I don’t like it,” Sam snapped.

“Mmm…you don’t like it that people might see you and not be afraid for two minutes,” Henry suggested, lurching a little as Sam stopped in front of a door and got it open. “You don’t like that people might think you’re normal.”

“Why should I? Normal people are a waste of time.”

“Huh.” Henry giggled again. “You’re funny,” he repeated. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

“No, I can honestly say they haven’t,” Sam said, tersely, as he led Henry into the room and all but threw him into a chair. “And you can stop saying it too.”

“Why?” Henry didn’t understand why Sam was so tetchy about compliments. Well, he did, but you’d think that he’d want Henry to be nice to him. “You’re weird. You said you wanted to be my friend, but then every time I try to be nice, you get mad and pretend you don’t like it.”

“I told you, I don’t like it when you act like an idiot,” Sam said, taking his coat off and retreating to the bed.

Henry got up and followed him, awkwardly stripping out of most of his clothes and leaving them on the floor. Todd would pick them up in the morning. Poor Todd. “But you always think I’m acting like an idiot,” he protested, laying down beside Sam and yawning. “And you still want to be my friend.”

“I want you to stop being stupid,” Sam told him, even as he let Henry wrap around his arm. “I think you’ll be a lot more interesting when you do.”

“Hm.” Henry said, wondering what that meant. He had a feeling he knew, but he couldn’t remember. He snickered. “You’re funny. We both know you’re interested in me now.”

A low sigh. “Just shut up and go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Unlike a lot of Sam’s ideas, that was a good one, so Henry closed his eyes, nuzzling Sam and not able to remember why he didn’t normally do that. “Talk to you in the morning.”

Sam was quiet, and Henry started to drift off, head nice and fuzzy. Just before he fell asleep, or maybe just after so he wasn’t sure if it was part of a dream or not, Henry heard, “Talk to you in the morning, Henry.”


	13. Pax, Malapert

[Prompt:](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/malapert-with-pax/): "Malapert--skilled in manners of speech, with Pax," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Apparently mermaids were a thing. Which Pax had totally known, everyone knew that mermaids were a thing and his marine biology training had included a lot of suspicious absences with regards to fish people, which had made him assume that fish people existed, but knowing that from negation and knowing that because _there was a mermaid sitting there on the ship_ were two entirely different things.

“Did you know mermaids were a thing?” Pax asked Nate, nudging him slightly in the ribs to get his attention away from the naked fish lady whose hair looked like seaweed and onto Pax where it belonged.

“Yeah,” Nate said with a nod. “Though we’ve never actually seen one. Much less had one insist on coming onboard and negotiating with the captain.”

The mermaid lady’s name was Lydia and she and the captain had been talking for half an hour about whether or not the Sparkling Wind was allowed to sail in this bit of water that apparently the mermaids really liked. It looked the same as all the other water to Pax, but what did he know about water?

“Then we are agreed,” Lydia was saying, smiling up at the captain from the chair Pax and Nate had helped her sit in. He wondered how long she could be out of water like that. He was also surprised that she had legs, but apparently merpeople did, so that was a thesis right there. “You may not sail through these waters without a proper offering to us to ensure safety, and so long as those conditions are honoured, we may not impede or assail your vessel.”

Pax frowned, wondering if the captain had heard what he had.

“Very well,” Natalie said, because she hadn’t, clearly. “I…”

“Wait,” Pax called out, stepping forward. “May not?”

“Did I misspeak?” Lydia asked, arching in an eyebrow that she didn’t have in a very arch way for someone who didn’t have an eyebrow to arch. “Yes, may not.”

“Why is the accord worded in the negative?” Pax wanted to know. He knew that technically he was supposed to let the captain speak, but the mermaid was trying to cheat them. “Shouldn’t it be ‘we must pay your offering in order to sail through these waters, and if we do, your people will leave us alone?’”

“I hardly see the point of rearranging the wording, young human.”

“Pax…” Natalie was frowning, though, and Pax suspected she was catching on. “I see.”

“I think that you worded the first clause in the negative so you could get away with putting the second clause in the subjunctive and hiding it in our grammatical structure,’ Pax said, crossing his arms and looking at Lydia, unimpressed. Even if she had blue skin, he was still unimpressed. “If we do as you say, you _might_ not attack us, is what you said.”

A very pretty frown from Lydia. “Of course we will have no cause to attack you…”

“That’s not the same as saying you won’t attack us. I have no cause to dislike badgers but I still do. If you don’t plan to attack us, then you shouldn’t have any trouble changing the wording of your agreement,” Pax said. “And saying that we may not sail through these waters without a proper offering to you to ensure safety as stipulated, and so long as those conditions are honoured, you will not impede or assail our vessel.” Pax thought about it. “And I’d go ahead and add that you won’t allow anything to happen to us through inaction or negligence, either. You’re asking us to give you a lot when we pass through. It’s the least you can do.”

Why mermaids needed human money Pax didn’t know. Maybe there was some sort of organized crime cabal that was in league with them.

Lydia held Pax’s gaze for a long moment, before throwing back her head and laughing. “You should have warned me you had such a skilled negotiator onboard, Captain. Very well. You will meet the conditions we discussed, and we will not impede or assail you, or let anything else do so. And as a token of appreciation for your crewman’s linguistic skill, we will waive the conditions on this one occasion and enforce them only next time. Agreed?”

Natalie looked at Pax, who thought about it. They had definitely meant to attack the ship later and waiving the fee was an attempt to mollify the captain. But Pax didn’t see any other traps in the agreement, so he nodded at the captain.

“Agreed,” Natalie said, offering her hand to shake.

“Good catch,” Nate muttered, as Pax sighed in relief.

“I just didn’t want to be dragged into the abyss by a fish with legs,” Pax muttered. “I’ve eaten too much fish in my lifetime, I don’t want the process reversed. Speaking of which, let’s not have fish for supper tonight. Where’s Cedric?”


	14. Marcus/Daniel, Tarantism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is one about slavery, but other that nothing super warning-worthy here.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/i-think-that-tarantism-would-probably-suit-daniel/): Tarantism--the urge to overcome melancholy by dancing, would suit Daniel quite well," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Daniel hadn’t been in the room when Marcus had come back, and he hadn’t been where Marcus had left him at the banister, and he wasn’t anywhere, and Marcus was worried.

He knew how much it hurt, what Theodore did to them. He knew how it felt. He didn’t know exactly how Daniel was feeling because it was always different, but he knew that he was feeling bad and Marcus cared about him. Like Hugh had said, he wanted to make sure Daniel knew he wasn’t alone. He didn’t seem like he was the kind of person who kill himself to Marcus, but Marcus’s dad hadn’t seemed like the kind of person to kill himself either, and that hadn’t stopped him from jumping off a roof.

He wasn’t going to be anywhere where Theodore would go, or would see him, so that narrowed his search a little, but the house was fucking huge–too huge–and Daniel was a tiny piece of shit.

Marcus felt bad for even thinking that, even if he hadn’t meant anything bad by it. Daniel was a good kid, not like him, and he didn’t deserve to be called names. Marcus should have been nicer to him from the start, but he’d just been so hurt, and so angry, and he just couldn’t stop himself from wondering what Daniel had that he didn’t, from wondering why Daniel was better than him.

But that wasn’t it at all, he understood that. Because Theodore was a monster, and he got bored with them after a while. That was all it was, Theodore had gotten bored with Marcus, just like he’d gotten bored with Hugh, and with Denny, and with Al and Trevor and the older guys. It was what he did. He’d gotten bored with Daniel now. None of them were better than the others, they were just newer, and younger.

Marcus was starting to get seriously worried. Daniel was a quiet kid–he talked quietly, he moved quietly, everything he did was so quiet–he might well have slipped past the guards and ran, maybe hearing Theodore suggest it had put the idea in his head. Maybe he was out on the street somewhere where he’d be caught and killed, or worse, caught and not killed.

But no. Daniel didn’t do things by accident, or on impulse. Marcus didn’t really know much about him, he didn’t talk much about himself and when he did, sometimes it had the flavour of something he’d made up, maybe something that was better than his real life beforehand, which Marcus understood because he’d done it a few times too, so he didn’t really know. But he could just tell. Daniel wasn’t impulsive. He was the opposite, probably too much. If he was going to run, he’d have a plan, and he’d have had it for weeks.

Leaving Marcus to worry if maybe Daniel had had a plan to run for a few weeks and just not told them.

Just as he was getting seriously worried, Marcus heard someone humming. Turning towards the sound, he cornered a hallway and pushed open the door to the art room, where Theodore had lots of stupid paintings hanging.

He pushed open the door as quietly as he could, and there was Daniel, humming to himself as he danced. Marcus had never seen Daniel dance, but he moved like water, flowing from one step to another in a way that he had to have learned at some point.

Marcus had never cared much about dancing, but he was immediately captivated by the way Daniel moved, and he stood there watching him for an amount of time that he didn’t track. He’d always thought Daniel was kind of cute, but watching him like this, he really appreciated how beautiful he was.

Daniel stopped suddenly, stopped moving, stopping humming, green eyes on Marcus. “Hi,” he said, a little sheepish. Maybe a little worried, like he thought Marcus would make fun of him. Two months ago Marcus might have, to be fair.

Marcus felt bad. He hadn’t meant to ruin whatever Daniel had going on. “Hi,” he said, feeling huge and stupid. “I didn’t mean to…you’re a really good dancer.”

“Oh,” Daniel looked away. “Thanks. I…someone taught me when I was younger.”

There it was again, that sense that Daniel may not have been lying per se, but that he also wasn’t telling the truth. Marcus nodded. “Are you feeling okay?”

Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know. I was trying to…” he shrugged. “To clear my head, or something.”

Marcus edged into the room, shut the door. “You should…keep going, if it helps. You should do whatever helps.” He could see the pain in Daniel’s eyes, even if he was trying to hide it. He wanted that pain to go away, and Marcus kind of hated that his first impulse was to punch Simon in the teeth. It wasn’t his fault any more than it had been Daniel’s. “I can go…”

“No, you…” Daniel trailed off, taking a step back. “It’s okay. You can stay, if you want.”

Marcus felt himself colour a bit. “It was really nice to watch,” he admitted, to the floor.

Daniel smiled. “Thanks.” He closed his eyes, took a breath, and started humming again, a song that Marcus had never heard, but one too structured to be made up.

And Daniel started dancing again, and for a while Marcus forgot to be worried about him.


	15. Theodore/Daniel, Malapert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's about the master/slave dynamic.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/i-think-that-tarantism-would-probably-suit-daniel/): "Malapert--skilled in manners of speech, with Theodore and Daniel because I miss their conversations a lot (a continuation of the previous chapter's prompt)," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/).

\---

“Let’s play a word game, Daniel.”

Daniel looked up at him, those beautiful eyes sparkling as his mind worked. His mind was always working, it was one of the things that Theodore adored about him. “Okay, Master. What kind of word game?”

“Not a difficult one,” Theodore assured Daniel. Words weren’t Daniel’s strong suit, or at least literacy wasn’t, though he’d taken to reading very quickly for someone his age. Daniel did have a skill with speaking; Theodore was quite certain he thought very carefully about everything he said.

He was so unlike Theodore’s previous slaves in so many ways. So much more careful than Marcus, so much bolder than Hugh. So much quieter than poor Denny. So much more clever than any of the others, possibly than anyone Theodore knew. Daniel would be a fearsome intellect when he was grown.

“We shall take turns saying words to one another, and the other shall say the first thing that comes to his mind,” Theodore said, smiling down at Daniel. He wanted to see what happened when Daniel didn’t have time to think about his answers. “How does that sound?”

They were talking a walk through the yard, a good distance from the house or anyone else. There would be guards here and there, but they stayed out of the way. Daniel nodded. “That sounds fun, Master.”

The word ‘fun’ there sounded like Daniel didn’t mean it in the way it sounded. He often did that, said things that were certainly true, but that he seemed not to mean what Theodore expected him to mean.

“Very well. I’ll go first. Theodore smiled at Daniel again. “Fun.”

Daniel blinked at him, looked down.

“The first thing that comes to mind, Daniel, no thinking on it.”

“Winter.”

Theodore nodded. “Why?”

“My friends and I used to have snowball fights and build forts out of all the snow,” Daniel said, sounding just a touch melancholy, but not to distraction. Theodore had never seen Daniel emotional to the point of distraction, except perhaps just after that assassination attempt outside Clement’s. “In the summer we had to try and earn money, but there were no sailors around in the winter, so we were free to do what we wanted.”

“I see,” Theodore said, nodding. Poor Daniel had lived a very depressing life before coming here, he knew that. It was always sad to remember how depressing, exactly. “Your turn.”

“Um…” Daniel thought for a moment, wheels turning his head as they always did. Theodore would give his entire fortune to have a look inside that boy’s brain as it worked. It must be quite something. He took a breath. “White.”

For the clothes Theodore had them wear, no doubt. “Clean.” Theodore remembered the first time he’d been able to wear white clothes–real white clothes, not the many variations that all looked dirty, but the real, expensive white that came from careful washing.

Daniel nodded, didn’t ask why. Maybe he understood. Theodore wouldn’t be surprised. There were things that he expected Daniel understood that he’d never told anyone. “Your turn, Master.”

“Friendship,” Theodore said.

“Water.” Daniel went a tad red in the cheeks, giving him some much needed colour. “It’s where we always used to play when it was warm. Um, bird.”

“Loud, I fear they always wake me up in the morning.” Daniel laughed at that, a quiet chuckle that Theodore had taken several days to realize was genuine. “How about this one? Words.”

“You.” Daniel’s eyes went a bit wide and he worried at his lip, looking away a bit as Theodore’s eyebrows rode. “You, um, taught me how to read them.”

“I’m touched, Daniel.” Theodore was. He had known that learning to read was important to Daniel, but not to that extent.

“So was I,” Daniel whispered, taking another breath. “Can I do person?”

“Person?” That one surprised Theodore, and nothing came to mind immediately. “Clothing, I suppose.” He gave a sly smile to Daniel. “I know it’s vain, but it’s the first thing I tend to notice when I meet a new person.”

Daniel smiled back, nodding. Not in agreement, just in acknowledgement that he’d heard. There had been a lot of subtle expressions that Theodore had had to learn to interpret with Daniel.

“How about…” Theodore tried to read Daniel’s posture, tried to see how he might react to this one. “Slave.”

Daniel went tense, and Theodore watched him make himself relax. Remarkable, how quick it was. “Nothing.”

“It makes you think of nothing?” Theodore asked, surprised. He didn’t believe that for a second.

Daniel shook his head. “No, Master. I think about nothing. The word. The idea of nothing.”

The garden felt very quiet at that moment. “You’re not nothing, Daniel.”

“I know. But that’s what people think I am.”

There were times when Theodore realized that there were depths to Daniel that he had barely skimmed, and this was one of those times. “They’re mistaken.” Theodore very much hoped he could get to those depths someday. 

Daniel nodded, guarding his expression. Except for in his eyes, his eyes often told the whole story. He was upset. “Love,” he said to Theodore.

_Ian_. “Pain,” Theodore said, without meaning to. Daniel blinked, watching him, and he put on a smile. “The two are always accompanied, Daniel. That’s simply the way it is.” Daniel nodded, and Theodore took his hand. “Perhaps we’ll play more later,” he said, as they approached the gazebo that was near the wall, with the climbing plants slithering up. He hadn’t expected Daniel to ask a question that cut him that deep. But once again, Daniel surprised him. Theodore was starting to think he’d never stop being surprised by this wonderful boy. “For now, why not escape from the heat and tell me about those snow forts you and your friends used to build?”

Daniel nodded. “Yes, Master. It always snows a lot in White Cape, so…” 

Theodore sat, and listened to him, and wondered, and tried to figure him out, like he had been since the beginning. And, he thought, would be for a long time to come.


	16. Henry/Sam, Gargalesthesia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Henry and Sam.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/gargalesthesia-with-henry-and-sam/): "Gargalestheisa--the sensation caused by tickling, with Henry and Sam," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/30/gargalesthesia-with-henry-and-sam/). 

\---

Henry felt funny. He often felt funny, especially when he was around Sam, and he rarely thought much about it anymore. But this was a type of funny that he hadn’t felt around Sam before. He hadn’t felt it in a long time.

He felt like he was being tickled.

Sam was pretty immersed in whatever he was doing over there, hovering his hand over some papers they’d taken out of Solomon’s study, trying to figure out what they did. “What are you doing?” he asked, risking it. It didn’t seem like Sam was doing anything to him on purpose, so it was probably safe to ask.

“Working,” Sam snapped. He was grumpy because he coudln’t figure the spells on the paper out, Henry knew. “Be quiet.”

“Okay,” Henry said, sighing and going back to the book he was trying to read. But it kept getting worse, the tickling, until Henry couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Be quiet,” Sam repeated, not moving.

“Yep,” Henry managed, trying to hold it in. Sam’s magic often had a physical effect on the people around him, which he knew from talking to a few of the other people in the castle–the ones who weren’t terrified of him–wasn’t limited to him. But it had never tickled before.

And Henry laughed again, trying so hard to keep it in.

“Is something funny over there?” Sam asked, voice razor sharp.

“No,” Henry insisted, laughing again. “I’m fine…”

“Henry, stop fucking around. I have a headache and I’m not in the mood to torture you.”

“You’re…” Henry burst out laughing, nearly falling out of his chair. “It tickles…”

“What?” The sensation stopped and Sam turned around, clearly pissed. “What the fuck are you going on about?”

Gasping for breath now that he was okay again, Henry sat up straighter, trying to get himself under control.”Your power. It tickled. I didn’t mean to laugh, but you were tickling me.”

“Tickling you.” Sam didn’t sound impressed. “I wasn’t touching you at all.”

“I know,” Henry said. He knew that it hadn’t been on purpose. “That was just what it felt like.”

“You…” Sam paused, frowning now. “You can feel my magic?”

“Yeah.” Oh, shit. Henry hadn’t realized that Sam didn’t know that. Pointing out things that Sam didn’t know was always tricky. “Usually it feels like buzzing, or scratching or something crawling. This time it felt like tickling.”

“Oh,” was all Sam said. Then he visibly composed himself, turning back to the table. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“I know,” Henry told him. “It just happens whenever you use your powers. It’s been stronger since you got the stone.”

“Hm.” Sam raised his hand over the paper, hesitating. Henry had noticed Sam hesitating more often lately. “Go away. I’m not going to stop doing this because you’re an idiot, and you’re distracting me.”

Henry smiled, wondering if there was another reason. He stood, headed for the door, pulled it open. “I’ll be back later.”

“I don’t care,” Sam said. “Just leave me alone for an hour.”

Henry stepped out of the room, and the tickling sensation came back as he did, causing him to giggle a little on the other side of the door.

There was some maid standing there, cleaning the floor. Henry cleared his throat, smiled at her, tried not to let his face fall when she cowered back a little. “I’d stay away if you can,” he told her. “He’s in a bit of a mood. Won’t even let me talk to him.”

The maid nodded, and all but ran from the hallway. Sam wouldn’t have hurt her or even known she was there, but Henry always did his best to keep people away from Sam, especially when he was in a mood.

The tickling steadily fading as he got farther from the room, Henry went to go find something to do for an hour.


	17. Henry/Sam, Basorexia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Henry and Sam, this one touching a bit on sex.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/31/basorexia-with-sam-and-henry/): "Basorexia--the overwhelming desire to kiss, with Sam and Henry," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Henry hated Sam, he really did.

He hated the obvious things. Sam was a rapist and a murderer and a psychopath who enjoyed being the first two things. It was fully in Sam’s power not to hurt anyone for the rest of his life and he was choosing to keep hurting people, to keep hurting Henry.

He hated the way Sam understood the world. That it was all about power and strength, that people who had those things could do whatever they wanted to people who couldn’t. That there was no point in virtue or self-sacrifice or honour, because all that mattered was looking out for yourself; other people be damned.

He hated the way Sam treated people. It wasn’t just the violence, it was the sneering, the contempt and utter disinterest with which he spoke to everyone he knew. Everyone from Todd to Lord Hans was treated as they they barely existed, and certainly didn’t matter if they did. They were there for Sam to amuse himself with and if they didn’t do that, they either had to leave or be hurt.

He hated that he was the only one who wasn’t treated that way. He was the only one who Sam talked to almost like a person. He was the only one who Sam seemed to realize also had feelings and wants and thoughts of his own. Sam didn’t care about them, but he knew Henry had them and used them to his advantage.

He hated that sometimes, when he wasn’t careful, he confused Sam knowing he was human for Sam treating him well. The fact that Henry was Sam’s only friend shouldn’t have been a point of pride and it wasn’t, except for sometimes when he heard people talking about how unapproachable the Sorcerer King was and how impossible he was to understand, and Henry had that moment of knowing they were wrong. Sam wasn’t unapproachable or hard to understand, not for him. And that meant something.

He hated the way Sam looked. Because, as Henry had noticed repeatedly over the last little while, Sam wasn’t unattractive. He should have been, someone like him should have been. But that wasn’t how the world worked, and Sam was cute, bordering on the handsome he would be in a couple more years. He had nice cheekbones and soft hair and round eyes and pretty lips that just…

He hated that he noticed those things as he undressed Sam for bed. Henry had sent Todd away while Sam wasn’t paying attention, because it was always better if Todd wasn’t here for Sam to torment. And so Henry was undressing Sam, and he was just so, so grateful that Sam couldn’t see that he was…looking. A lot.

He hated how soft Sam’s skin was, how small his shoulders were, how long his fingers. He hated the unbroken skin on Sam’s bare chest, begging to be broken by something. He hated that it continued, that he was nice to look at all the way down as Henry took off his pants, and hated that his face was still there when Henry got up, with those pretty lips that just asked to be kissed.

He hated that he wanted to kiss them.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asked, when Henry had been sort of standing there for a minute, staring.

“Nothing,” Henry lied, stepping back and swallowing. “There you go.”

Sam made a noise, and stepped forward, following Henry. “Something you want to say, just fucking say it, Henry.”

Henry looked down at Sam, at his lips as they moved.

He hated himself for leaning down and kissing them, right then and there.

Sam was still for a moment, then he pulled away, stepping back and getting on the bed, a confused look on his face and the briefest of buzzes in the air from his magic. “What the fuck was that?”

“A kiss, dumbass.” Henry turned away, started taking his own clothes off.

He hated the fact that Sam had been blushing.

“Why?”

“Because I felt like it. You’re the one who’s always going on about doing things when you want to.”

He hated that he spent Sam’s entire silence trying to figure out what it meant. He was supposed to be the one who understood Sam. “Just go to bed,” Sam grumbled after a minute, climbing under the blankets.

“Yeah.” Henry finished undressing and got in bed too, hating that Sam was on his side, facing away from Henry, not cuddled up to him like usual.

Henry hated Sam, he really did.

But he’d realized recently that hate was a lot more complicated than he’d realized.


	18. Gabrielle, Dystopia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of implied sex going on all around this one, but very little graphic content.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/02/gabrielle-and-a-humourous-use-of-dystopia/): "Gabrielle and a humourous use of Dystopia--an imaginary place of total misery, a metaphor for hell [which the pedant in me would like you to know is not at all the definition of dystopia, but I didn't write the prompt list]," by folkendefanel, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Gabrielle was in hell.

She was trying so hard to figure out what she’d done to deserve hell, and was coming up with nothing. Gabrielle was a good person all around, she protected people a knight, had a strong sense of justice, did her best to make the world a better place. There was no good reason for her to be in hell.

And yet everywhere she went, it was nothing but boys or men fucking.

It had started just after she’d gotten up, when she’d–foolishly–decided to pop in on her betrothed and have breakfast with him.

The guard had let her into the apartments, and she’d found breakfast sitting out, ready to be eaten, Franz’s page sitting there at the table. He’d nearly tripped over himself standing. “Your Majesty.”

“Good morning, Frederick,” Gabrielle gave the room a look-over, not seen either Franz or Boey anywhere. But their giant dog was sitting in front of the bedroom door, making the saddest dog face Gabrielle had ever seen. “They’re not awake yet?” But that wasn’t right, Gabrielle knew right away. Because she may never had slept with him, but she knew there was no way in hell that Franz didn’t let that dog sleep on his bed .

“They are, your Majesty,” Frederick said, pressing two fingers together. “They’re, um. Busy.”

“Busy.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Frederick had been blushing, just a little bit, which had been enough to give Gabrielle a decent enough idea of what ‘busy’ meant.

A loud shout a second later, one that could be heard clearly through the door, was the proof that Gabrielle didn’t fucking need this early in the morning. Dragon lifted up his head and whinged at the door as Frederick’s face darkened a good amount.

“I see,” Gabrielle said, keeping her tone even. “Maybe we’ll have breakfast tomorrow.”

Frederick nodded a little, swallowing. “Perhaps if you came…a little later in the day?”

Gabrielle gave him a look. “This is a regular occurrence, is it?”

Mutely, Fredrick nodded.

Gabrielle sighed. “Fine. I’ll come back at a later time tomorrow.” She was certain this was the same time she’d come a few days ago and everyone had been dressed then. But whatever. “Do tell them I dropped by, will you?”

“You’re not going to stay, your Majesty?” Fredrick asked, glancing at the door. “It…sounds like they’re almost done.”

“No, I’ll see Prince Franz later today, I think,” Gabrielle said, shaking her head as she turned for the door. Honestly, he was supposed to be an adult. It was one thing that Gavin couldn’t keep his damn clothes on for two seconds–honestly, she’d walked in on him and Owen in three different rooms yesterday alone–but Franz didn’t come off as the type.

In the hallway, Gabrielle’s stomach rumbled. She should have stolen some of Franz’s food on the way out.

But she hadn’t, and so Gabrielle headed for the dining room to eat breakfast there, rather than having servants bring it all the way to her rooms for no reason. Her parents would likely still be there at this hour, and they were sane people, at least.

But of course, when Gabrielle got to the dining room, her parents weren’t there. Just Gavin and Owen. The good news was that there were plenty of free chairs, since Gavin was in Owen’s lap. And there was plenty of food, since they were eating each other’s tongues.

Honestly, Gabrielle thought, taking in a deep breath to calm down, and pretending not to notice than Owen’s hand was down the back of Gavin’s pants, it wasn’t like they didn’t fucking sleep together. She was happy for her brother, and Owen was a decent guy, but Gabrielle had never known two people who were so goddamned codependent, it was embarrassing by association.

Deciding it was safer–for her sanity and her brother’s gonads–not to engage, Gabrielle just turned and left. She’d eat at the fortress.

She decided to walk, let the air clear her head as she made her way there. It wasn’t far and the walk was nice, if only because she didn’t trip over anyone boning on the way there.

Gabrielle was less lucky once she actually got to the fortress, though. The training yards were only a third full at this time of day, but almost the minute Gabrielle walked in, she all but tripped over Edwin and…she’d forgotten his name. Leo? Maybe. Stumbling out of the stables with hay in their hair and there was no way either of them had slept there.

It was a good fucking thing she hadn’t taken her horse or she’d have had to go in there.

Gabrielle shook her head and just walked right them, nodding at their salutes and making her way into the fortress proper. She wanted to get dressed, get her armour on before she ate so she didn’t have to do it after. Efficiency.

On the way to her quarters she heard no less than three separate cries that were not that different from Franz’s coming from different rooms. Maybe she was just hyper aware of it because it was how her day had started. Maybe today was some weird ‘bang a guy’ holiday that she didn’t know about. Maybe a sex wizard had cursed the whole city. Maybe literally everyone in the capital in possession of a cock couldn’t think of anything better to do with it than stick it in someone else with one.

Or maybe Gabrielle was in hell.

Gabrielle didn’t hate sex, she didn’t hate the idea of men having sex, and she didn’t care who had sex when and where. It was just that there seemed to be _so much_ of it happening all around her, all the time. The human race was going to go extinct if someone didn’t take one for the team and start sleeping with women. She couldn’t escape, and she was honestly wondering now. Had she committed some terrible sin against men who liked other men, and this was her eternal punishment?

Maybe she was just overreacting because she was hungry and sick of everyone around her not being able to keep it in their goddamn pants.

Gabrielle got to her door without incident, letting out a sigh as she pushed it open and stepped inside.

And was met immediately with her squire Ashton’s bare ass, looking right up at her from the middle of the floor, where he was on top of Warren.

They both stopped, rolling a little and looking up at her, wide-eyed. “Um, good morning, sir,” Ashton said, sounding obviously short of breath while Warren just closed his eyes.

“Ashton. I know this is your room too, but you’re aware that it’s also mine, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” Ashton had the grace to sound like he knew he’d fucked up at the same time as he’d fucked Warren, at least. “I, um. Didn’t realize you were planning to come in this early today.”

Gabrielle sighed. Of course. “It’s fine. Just…clean up after yourselves when you’re done. I’m going to eat breakfast.”

“Yes, sir.” Ashton said, sounding like he knew that she was going to put him through the hardest drills she could think of today. Not that it hurt him enough to make him unbury himself from Warren, of course.

Gabrielle stepped backwards, closed the door quietly, and then leaned against it for a moment, until she could hear the unmistakable sound of two squires going at it again. Then she pushed off the door and headed to the mess hall, trying to block everything out.

She was in hell. It was the only solution that made sense.


	19. Devin, Strikhedonia

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/02/strikhedonia-because-sir-devin-is-tired-of/): "Strikhedonia--the pleasure of being able to say "to hell with it," because Devin is tired of everyone's shit," by folkendefanel, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Devin wondered if there was any chance that someday, just for a few minutes, Prince Gavin would have his royal status revoked and therefore be available for a solid caning. The boy needed one, that much was obvious.

It wasn’t that Devin disliked the prince–on the contrary, he was a remarkable young man who in many was was a role model for his generation–but he was just so insufferably _obnoxious_.

And boys his age always were–Devin knew that well enough, he’d been around enough of them and had been one himself a long time ago–but the prince had it worse than others because nobody could tell him to shut the fuck up, except for his sister, and he hardly listened to her except when it was convenient.

And he’d gone and stuck Devin, Sir Devin, an anointed knight who’d served the kingdom and the crown for three decades, helped put down that rebellion in the north back in the day, kept everyone important alive, served as the head of the very capable crown princess’s retinue for many years,with the nickname Sir Babysitter.

Devin had been called worse, far worse, by far worse people. But for some reason, that name had fucking stuck. He hadn’t realized it at first, had just ignored it as Gavin being annoyed that he wasn’t being allowed to sneak away and kiss his boyfriend and saying the first petulant thing that had come to mind. Which it had been, but he’d said it in front of Warren and the other boys and that, Devin had realized far too late, had been the end of that.

Because he’d forgotten that if there was one thing boys all had in common, it was their ability to seize on the chance to mock someone together.

Just a week after they’d gotten back to the capital he’d overheard Warren tell Evan that he couldn’t join them on some outing because “I’m being babysat tonight,” which Devin hadn’t quite put together as meaning that they were training that evening until later.

It wasn’t until he’d heard again from Harvey in reference to a training mission he was running for a number of squires together that he’d realized what it meant.

By then it had been too late. He could hardly confront the squires about it–it was a harmless nickname and he’d be the villain if he made an issue of it.

But being boys, they’d gotten braver, and the first time Devin had heard ‘Sir Babysitter’ from one of the he’d nearly decked Ashton, but had settled for having him run laps. A lot of laps. Just because he was concerned about the lad’s stamina, of course (despite the fact that Ashton had little trouble keeping Warren up half of most nights).

It would help if the sadly un-caneable prince wasn’t here at the damn fortress at least twice a week all of the sudden. It wasn’t that Devin thought knighting Owen had been a mistake, he was a capable young man, but the consequences of it were not ideal. Especially since Gavin had definitely realized his nickname had caught on and knew he was the only one who could use it with impunity.

Owen, at least, was respectable enough, when he wasn’t casually mentioning how easy it was to kill a dragon or how sometimes you just had to do some impossible feat of acrobatics to solve a problem like he had in this situation or that. Honestly, it was easy to tell the boy had been raised in taverns. He was charming in all the wrong ways as far as Devin was concerned.

It was on a brisk morning that it happened. Devin was running a training drill–yes, he had more than enough seniority not to do that, even if they were shorthanded these days, but it was useful for the squires and teaching was always a good way to reinforce one’s own skills as well–and he’d called out to Warren to pick up the pace of his jabs (and Devin knew that Ashton was the reason for that, but it was bad form to mention that aloud).

Sweating and tired, Warren just nodded. “Yes, Sir Babysitter.”

Devin had never heard the training ground that quiet. Everyone in hearing stopped moving, even Owen on the other side of the yard, even Gavin at his little table. Even Gabrielle, doing her own sword drills.

Warren looked like someone who had just kissed death on the cheek and said hello.

Devin didn’t react immediately. Knights didn’t get to Devin’s age by being impulsive. He just stood there, watching Warren stand very still, white as a sheet.

Across the yard, Gavin chuckled.

Devin sighed. Then he sighed again. Then he opened his eyes, which he didn’t recall closing. He smiled at Warren. “I’m going to step out for a while. You can keep at that until I’ve returned.”

“Um…” Warren looked around. “Okay? When will you return?”

“I don’t know.” Devin turned, headed for the gates.

“Wait, you can’t just leave!”

“Yes, I can, lad,” Devin called. “I’ve got seniority. I can do whatever I want.”

Fuck it, Devin thought as he left the fortress, turning left and heading down the road. It wasn’t yet lunchtime, but fuck it. He couldn’t cane Gavin and he couldn’t retaliate against Warren without looking like an asshole, so he was going to do the next best thing.

Sir Devin was going to go get drunk.


	20. Peter/Isaac, Sphallolalia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some suggestive flirting ahead.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/02/sphallolalia-with-isaac-and-peter-i-feel-like/): "Sphallolalia--flirtatious talk that leads nowhere, with Isaac and Peter, I feel it's pretty suited for them," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

The problem with Isaac–and it wasn’t really a problem so much as it was just something about Isaac that Peter had noticed–was that he was always on and he didn’t even seem to realize it.

Part of the reason why Peter had taken so long to realize that Isaac flirting with him actually meant anything was because Isaac flirted with everyone, all the time. It was how he talked to people. He flirted with his roommates, he flirted with his friends, he flirted with boys, he flirted with girls, he flirted with teachers, he flirted with his dog. It literally didn’t mean anything because Isaac was so used to it as a means of communication that he did it _all the time_.

Except that sometimes it did mean something, because sometimes Isaac legitimately was trying to get someone to sleep with him. And Peter was getting better at telling the difference, with mixed results.

When Isaac leaned forward a little, resting his cheek on his hand as he answered a question in Lee’s class, that didn’t mean anything. It also didn’t mean anything when he hid behind his eyelashes while he laughed at Jessica’s comments about something at lunch.

It definitely meant something when he told Neil he had pretty hands, or when he asked Skip for a taste of his soup at supper, or when he leaned on Hemi and wondered aloud what it was like to float. It meant something when he kissed Peter’s hand idly during study, when he lay his head on Peter’s shoulder as they were sitting, when he got into Peter’s bed because he was lonely at night.

The place where it was hardest to tell was in what Isaac was actually saying. “Hey Peter, can I have a taste of your sausage?” could just be Isaac wanting to steal Peter’s breakfast like he usually did. Or it could not be. “Come sit in my lap, it’s cold,” could be a true statement, of it could be Isaac being what passed or sneaky. “Peter, sit behind me for this test, you’re too cute when you’re thinking and I’ll spend the whole class getting distracted by you,” might have been flirting or it might have been Isaac recognizing his own weaknesses.

When they were studying, Peter had a feeling that it was all on purpose, but an equally strong feeling that it was because Isaac was looking for a distraction from the work. “You’re too studious. It makes me want to do something indecent.” “Give me a kiss every answer I get right?” “Why would I look at my notes when I can look at you instead?”

It was constant. Isaac never stopped. Peter loved Isaac, he did. But it was tiring trying to keep up with him, to figure out when he needed to take Isaac seriously and when he didn’t.

They were studying right now, for an exam in Development in a few days. “Okay, tell me about the idea of resonance,” Peter said, a little tired because they’d been at this for a while. Skip and Spencer were earlier sleepers and had already gone to bed, to pick up in the morning while Peter and Isaac slept like normal people.

“Um.” Isaac closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. He smiled a little. “It’s when two Pillars get real close together, right?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“And they…get really excited. They vibrate and rub against each other.” Isaac’s foot rubbed Peter’s as he talked. “And then something explodes, and…”

Peter swallowed a bit, nodded. “Yeah. They…” he looked at Isaac, prepared with the dry, technical answer. And he got rid of that, because Isaac hadn’t really gotten it the first three times. “When they’re close under a skill enough hand, they can vibrate at the same frequency, until it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference between them. They might even…penetrate one another, make something really special.”

Isaac smiled, nodding along. “That makes sense.” He shifted a little on the bed. “I wonder if it’s fun for them. The Pillars. I bet it feels really nice to be all close up against each other like that, being…”

“Stimulated?”

“Yeah.

“Maybe it does. They say that the climax of the resonance is the part that makes the whole thing worth it, but I expect the whole experience is something really fantastic, actually.”

“Hm, I bet,” Isaac said with a grin, leaning forward a little. “You know, I’m a much more practical learner. Maybe I’d really understand it with a demonstration?”

“It’s a pretty advanced magic,” Peter said immediately, looking down and flipping to the next page. “You’ll have to live with knowing the theory for now. The next one is entanglement. When the Pillars get all tangled around each other until they can’t really do anything because they’re just so close together.”

Isaac sighed, cutely, because everything he did was cute, even when he was being petulant, and nodded. “They must be real sticky to make that happen.”

“I guess so,” Peter agreed, keeping his eyes on his book. They were going to get through this if it killed one of them, and if he had to speak Isaac’s language to do it, then so be it.


	21. Henry/Sam, Strikhedonia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Henry and Sam, with Henry realizing he's not powerless. There's also some non-descriptive maiming at the beginning.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/03/strikhedonia-with-sam-and-henry/): "Strikhedonia--the pleasure of being able to say "to hell with it,"" with Sam and Henry," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“Cut off his hand,” Henry ordered, making himself look at the accused man as he did. It was getting easier, to look at them while he did this. It was getting easier to order things like this for petty crimes like stealing some corn. Henry didn’t even need to spend time anymore telling himself that it was better this way, because if he didn’t do this, Sam would do something worse.

He kept his face impassive as the guard carried out his order, removing the man and bring the next one forward. Today was a day for Sam to pass judgement on people whose crimes were specifically against the crown. All of them were stupid things like stealing some food from one of Sam’s fields, striking or spitting at a guard, slandering the Sorcerer King.

The next one was brought forward, the charges read. He’d thrown a rock at one of Sam’s guards as the guard had ridden by. “I did it, and I’d do it again, your Majesty, the man insisted, vehement. Too vehement. Grown men who were past thirty didn’t throw rocks at guards.

Henry wondered if Sam realized that the man was covering so his child wouldn‘t be punished.

“You will pay a fine of five silver pieces as the price of disrepsect,” Henry told him, once the man had finished confessing. “And…”

“Hang him,” Sam interrupted, from his place on the throne.

“Sam.”

“That should put a stop to any future disrespect, no?” Sam said. He rubbed at his forehead. “Hang him.”

“Your Majesty, I…”

“Was I misheard? You confessed to your crime, unless you’re now about to tell me that someone else threw that rock?“

Oh, so he did know. Fuck. Henry sighed. “You heard your king.” He gestured to the guards to remove the man, who went quietly, in shock. A quiet descended over the room.

“The next one,” Sam called, waving his hand vaguely.

Henry leaned down. “Do you have a headache?”

“These fucking people are my headache,” Sam grumbled.

“I can do it if you want to go lay down,” Henry offered, because he had to offer. He had to at least try to stop Sam from killing a bunch of mostly innocent people.

Sam started to say something, then winced. “Fine. I don’t want to find out that you did something stupid after.”

“I know,” Henry said, a little surprised that that had worked.

Sam sighed, got up and descended the dais. “You’re all boring. I’m appointing Henry to deal with you all in my place.”

And he turned, left the throne room through the side door, left Henry standing there.

Henry put his hand on the back of the throne, waiting for Sam to leave. “Bring the next one forward,” he said, watching the guards. They were watching him back, as they often did. They’d been watching him this whole time, especially while he’d been talking to Sam, quietly so they couldn’t hear. They all looked like they weren’t sure what to expect, which was often how Sam’s guards looked at Henry.

Because, Henry realized just then, to them it had looked like he had just sent Sam away.

_Oh._

Henry knew that people in the castle were afraid of him. He spend significant time with Sam and was still intact and apparently sane, he had killed Solomon, and he occasionally killed guards who had wronged him ages ago.

Now Henry wondered.

He looked at Lowell, a squirrelly, pinched-looking man who was the head of Sam’s guard. Henry didn’t like him, mostly because he liked to rape children. Sam liked him just fine. “Bring that last man back,” he ordered.

“Sir?”

“I said, bring him back,” Henry repeated, moving around and sitting on the throne. “Bring all of them back, actually. Everyone we’ve seen today.”

“I…”

“Now, Lowell.”

After a moment’s indecision, Lowell nodded at some guards by the door, and they left. There was some quiet muttering around the room, but Henry ignored it, not saying anything. The guards returned with the man Sam had sentenced to hanging, and with the three from before him, the man whose hand Henry had cut off, the two before him who’d suffered the same punishment. There were fifteen more besides them, waiting for judgement.

Henry looked at the man whose child had thrown a rock at a guard. And he smiled. Sam was going to be pissed later. But in that moment, Henry didn’t care. He just…ignored that, a strange feeling coming over him for a minute.

“The crown pardons you,” Henry said.

A hush fell. “M-my lord?”

“I said you’re pardoned. You can go. Do ensure that this doesn’t happen again.”

“Th-thank you, my lord!” the man cried, falling to his knees. “Thank you…”

Henry nodded. “You’re all pardoned. All of you. You three…” He pointed at the three who’d come first. “You’ll be compensated in gold for the loss of your hands.”

The throne room seemed to explode in crying and shouts. “Sir!” Lowell said, stepping close to the dais. “You…you can’t do that!”

Henry fixed him with a look. “I think I can, Lowell. I think we all heard Sam say he was appointing me to deal with this, didn’t you?”

“His majesty is going to be angry.”

“Only if he finds out,” Henry said, nodding. “And only at me. So you can decide. You can worry about Sam being mad at me. Or you can worry about me being mad at you. And maybe consider how replaceable you are while you’re at it.”

Lowell visibly recoiled, paling a little. “Of course, sir. My apologies.” He gestured towards his guards, who went about unshackling everyone in the line.

“Those three will be given fifty gold pieces each, and everyone will be given a fifteen-pound bag of food from the castle larders for the inconvenience,” Henry said, sitting back a little and waving. “See it done, now.”

Henry sat and watched as the guards did as he said, as the people he’d pardoned thanked him, the three he’d maimed perhaps less effusively, and he tried not to grin like an idiot. Sam was going to be pissed later. If he found out. But it was worth it.

Besides, Henry thought. Sam being angry was part of the fun.


	22. Klaus and friends, Concilliabule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Klaus plotting. So much Klaus plotting. Have fun guessing who he's plotting with. Hint: They've both appeared in the story already.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/a-couple-many-requests-i-figured-out-sort-of/): "Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot, Klaus and a character of your choice," by stevewestenra, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“This isn’t going to work.”

Klaus nodded, ignoring the chair in front of him just as both his companions were. Perhaps sitting at the table made everything seem too formal. Like this was a meeting. Formal meetings left records and trails.

Klaus preferred not to have those behind him whenever possible.

“Don’t just nod and then ignore me,” his companion said sharply. “This is not going to work, Klaus.”

“Of course it is, and you ought not to call me that where people could be listening.” Not using his given name had become habit to Klaus recently. Sometimes he wondered, if it became habit to everyone else as well, would he still be Klaus?

A roll of the eyes from his friend. “It’s not. Prophecies don’t work this way. You can’t just appoint someone to fill the narrative and call the prophecy fulfilled.”

“I fail to see why not,” Klaus countered, clasping his hands behind his back. “Nowhere does it say that external action cannot influence the future.”

An elaborate sigh. “Tell him,” Klaus’s friend said to their third. “Please explain to him that this is not how this works.”

“It’s not,” the third said, giving a shrug. “But at the same time…”

“Please don’t agree with him.”

“Waiting hasn’t helped. I don’t see that taking action can hurt. I mean, it can, fucking with prophecy is dangerous. But in this case I think it’s okay.”

Klaus agreed, and he smiled. “We have the means, thanks to poor Darla. There’s no harm in giving it a try.”

It wasn’t just a try, and Klaus suspected they both realized that. He did, at least. Klaus wasn’t in the habit of failing.

“Except for the harm to all those dead babies,” Klaus’s friend muttered, arms crossed now.

“It’s not like you to be so sentimental.”

“I don’t care about the babies. I care about us getting caught because you’re losing your patience, Klaus.”

Klaus gave another smile. The one thing he hadn’t lost all through this was his patience. “We won’t be caught. Please stop worrying.”

“He’s right,” the third said, watching Klaus carefully. “There’s no point in worrying, or in trying to dissuade him. He’s already done it, after all.”

Klaus hadn’t told them that part yet.

Another eye roll. “Of _course_ he’s already done it. Because he knows we wouldn’t have let him if he was waiting for our approval.”

“It’s true.”

Klaus couldn‘t argue with that. “The time is right. The prophecy will soon be fulfilled.”

“More than one,” the third added, looking at something else now. “Two, three of them. There are a few that are going to…collide.”

“Oh, good,” Klaus’s friend drawled. “Good things always come from collisions.”

“The trick is to be driving as many of the carts as possible to control where the pieces fall,” Klaus told them both.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Klaus.” But that was said with a sigh, a resigned one. “Fine. It’s not like we didn’t always know we were eventually on a collision course.”

“We’ve always been on one,” the third agreed. “From the start.”

“That’s what war is,” Klaus said, nodding. “We will come out victorious, don’t worry.”

“Of course we will, you arrogant bastard,” his friend said, scornful. “That’s not in question. It’s whether the victory will mean any damned thing.”

Klaus nodded, because that was the question. But it would, it had to. Klaus would make sure it did.


	23. Yancy/Cameron, Mamihlapinatapei

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is slightly crack-ish, but could potentially be canon. I'll leave whether or not it is to your imagination.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/a-couple-many-requests-i-figured-out-sort-of/): Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move, Cameron x Yancy," by stevewestenra, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

At first, Yancy hardly took notice of her, the witch who barged into the academy one day and inserted herself into the archmage’s office and insisted on being kept in the circle regarding the chosen one situation. He wasn’t surprised that the Grand Coven would send someone, though how they’d found out so quickly was somewhat vexing a question to ask.

It was at the meeting in the archmage’s office after Christopher’s attack that he first really paid attention to Cameron. She spoke with authority and power, and he was unsure if it was that that allowed her to be so scornful with such a figure as the archmage himself, or her prior friendship with him that caused him to give her such leeway. Everything about her bespoke a confidence that Yancy had no way of matching, especially in a foreign environment.

Their few encounters after that had cemented a certain…fascination for him. He was unsure whence it came, but come it did, and soon Yancy found himself wondering what Cameron would think of a given topic without her presence. He could hear her voice in his head, making pointed comments about whatever he was studying that day, correcting the texts when they were wrong as if she herself had written them.

It had been during one such moment that Yancy had started to think more about her a person, about where she was from and what she had lived through, how she wasn’t so much older than him as it first appeared. How he would like to see her again.

Then Yancy realized he was being unduly influenced by Isaac, and tried to behave like the respectable adult he was rather than the teenager he’d been, now lost to the mists of time and age.

The problem was, the more Yancy thought about Cameron and tried not to think about her, the more he noticed that she seemed to be paying more attention to him that she did to most people. Which was to say that she knew he existed, evidenced by her looking in his direction while speaking to him, glancing at him while saying something that he was obviously going to proffer an opinion on, not immediately dismissing everything he said as if he hadn’t said it. Perhaps the strange fascination that held Yancy was also gripping Cameron, and Yancy couldn’t deny that the possibility intrigued, even excited him.

But he would do nothing. He had not the luxury of youth that Isaac had, making his intentions for people clear not only to them, but to everyone who paid the remotest of attentions to him. It was perfectly right and respectable that the lad express his sexuality in such a way as he see fit, and Yancy had no quarrel with that, especially not now that he’d the time to get used to it. But as much as that suited Isaac, it did not suit Yancy. He had always preferred a more reserved approach, even as a youngster. And it had always worked for him, so there was no call to change that.

Granted, Yancy was currently without a partner, but that was because his work took up all his time and he hardly had any to spare for a significant other.

He was walking through the halls of the tower, on his way upstairs to his study after his seminar, when he ran into Cameron, on the fifth floor, far from where he usually saw her. “Good day,” Yancy said, getting her attention.

Cameron turned her eyes on him, and for a moment their gazes locked. All movement in the hallway seemed to cease. He was struck with the feeling that they were communicating something, something neither of them could say aloud, something deep and important. That Cameron knew something important about him, and that he knew something important about her. And Yancy was certain that his fascination with Cameron was not one-sided at all.

Then the moment past, and Cameron nodded. “And to you as well,” she said, passing by him.

Yancy waited until she was out of sight before pausing in his step, glancing futility over a shoulder. That had been…most odd.

He really was far too influenced by Isaac.


	24. Sam/Theodore, Cataglottism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure crack. A meeting between Sam and Theodore will likely happen in canon, but not at all like this.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/a-couple-many-requests-i-figured-out-sort-of/): "Cataglottism - Kissing with tongue, Sam x Theodore," by stevewestenra, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“Why would I do that?” Sam asked, face contorting into a frown.

“Because your partner would like it, perhaps?” Theodore said, and Sam heard him set down his cup.

“Why? It sounds disgusting.” Having someone else’s tongue in his mouth was possibly the least appealing idea Sam had heard lately.

Rumour was that this man here in Merket knew about the stones that Sam was supposed to be after. Sam had let Henry talk him into diplomacy–again–and it was a fucking mistake. Henry’s ideas were always mistakes, because now he was stuck in this room with this strange man, and somehow the conversation had turned from stones to magic and the nature of power, to different types of power, to ways to influence people, to the efficacy of kissing and frankly Sam had no idea why or how and he didn’t like it.

“It is less so in practice than it sounds, I have heard,” Theodore said. He had a smooth voice, one that reminded Sam of honey, and voices weren’t supposed to sound like that. It was clearly practiced, and Sam wondered who the fuck practiced talking a certain way.

“You’ve heard?” Sam sneered.

“And experienced. I assure you, it is a most effective way of…indicating to your partner that you are interested in certain ways.”

“You could just tell him you want to fuck him,” Sam said, sighing. According to Henry, Theodore had a bunch of barely dressed little slaves running around, so he was hardly in a position to need to be circumspect in his desires. And neither was Sam.

“Yes,” Theodore agreed, sounding amused. “But this carries more…class, perhaps.”

“Sticking your tongue down someone’s throat has class?” This was stupid. Sam didn’t know why he was still having this conversation. Theodore didn’t answer, and Sam thought about it. This was so stupid, it was the kind of thing Henry might like. “Demonstrate.”

“Show you?”

“Yes,” Sam demanded. “I don’t believe you.”

“Very well.” Theodore’s voice had a smirk in it, but Sam chose to ignore that as he listened to Theodore stand, choosing to remain sitting. Theodore came over, leaned down until his breath was on Sam’s face. “Are you certain?”

“It’s just a fucking kiss, just do it.” Honestly, why were people so useless? Sam wished he weren’t so interested in this. And he was glad Henry was outside the door.

“As you wish,” Theodore said, and he leaned down and kissed Sam, his mouth covering Sam’s, his body covering Sam’s even as they didn’t touch beyond their lips, and Sam wished he’d stood as well.

When Theodore’s tongue probed at Sam’s lips, Sam recoiled a little, but that was the whole point of this exercise, so with an internal sigh, he parted them, let Theodore in.

It was strange, having his mouth invaded like that, and Sam immediately disliked it, a dislike that grew stronger the more he experienced it. His reaction, therefore, was to use his own tongue to push back, to push into Theodore’s mouth and try to wrestle him down, making a little noise of agitation as he tried. 

It didn’t work, but the wrestle went on for a good minute before Theodore broke away, pulling back slightly. Sam only realized he’d tried to follow when he came to his senses and found himself halfway out of his chair.

Sam pushed him away, snapping his mouth shut and wiping his lips on the back of his sleeve.

“You didn’t like it?”

“It was…” Sam wasn’t sure. “I guess it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever felt. But no, I didn’t like it.”

“Well, my apologies, then,” Theodore said, sitting back down. “But now you can say you tried it, at least.”

Sam was hot in the face for no good reason and it was pissing him off. He wiped his mouth again. “Telling someone what you want is faster,” was all he said. Even as he did, though, he wondered what would happen if he did that to Henry. He’d been right, it was the sort of thing that Henry would probably like.

He’d try it on Henry tonight, just to find out.

“I suppose,” Theodore agreed. “Now, I think we were talking about power?”


	25. Gabrielle/Natalie, Basorexia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one of questionable canonicity. Could happen someday.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/a-couple-many-requests-i-figured-out-sort-of/): "Basorexia - An overwhelming desire to kiss, Gabrielle x Natalie," by stevewestenra, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

Gabrielle didn’t need this in her life.

She had enough problems without having to come all the way to the coast to deal with some piracy issue, and someone else really should be having this meeting with some local ship captains to strategize how to deal with it, and the ship captains really shouldn’t have so much say over what the battle plan was going to be, just because they were their ships.

Okay, maybe that last thing was fair. But Gabrielle would replace it with something else.

The woman who was speaking for all the ship captains had no right to be so attractive.

How did someone who spent all their time in ocean air keep her hair so shiny and nice looking? How did she have such soft skin? How did she run a ship with bedroom eyes like that? How did her boobs not fall out of that shirt?

Maybe she was magic. The boob thing gave it away. Gabrielle liked armour and heavy shirts, and when she wasn’t wearing those, dresses with structured bosoms to keep hers where they were supposed to be. Captain Natalie didn’t seem to have anything to keep hers in place, but they just sort of stayed there, in her half-laced shirt. It was unnerving.

Not that Gabrielle was staring or anything. She was paying total attention to the meeting.

“I don’t think five ships will be sufficient,” Natalie was saying, giving a slight shake of her head that had her hair rippling. Rippling. “I’d prefer seven, or ten if we can swing it.”

“You five are the only ships we have at the moment, Captain, and we can’t count on the pirates staying still until we have more,” Gabrielle reasoned. “With the fighting force we have, we can probably do it.”

“See, that probably worries me,” Natalie said back, leaning forward a little bit. In order not to look down, Gabrielle kept eyes firmly locked on her face. The problem was, her face was really nice too. Her lips were moving as they talked, which obviously they were, that was what lips did, but they were nice lips, and Gabrielle wished she hadn’t noticed that. “Given that if a ship sinks, everyone on it is likely to die, I’d really rather wait a few days until we can be assured more numbers.”

Gabrielle had taken this mission to get away from the capital and all her problems there. At least here she didn’t have to put up with Franz and Boey, or Owen and Gavin or half the knights, though Ashton and Warren had come, but she just found things for them to do, aside from each other, to keep them apart. But sex had followed her here too, and now it was affecting her.

Maybe the problem was actually that Gabrielle needed to get laid.

She’d never had sex with a woman before, except Olivia when they’d been younger. But never as an adult.

She wondered if Natalie liked women. She wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. They looked very nice to kiss. Natalie’s first mate was her son, but just because she’d had sex with a man once didn’t mean she didn’t also like women. Maybe she should ask.

Now that she was thinking about kissing Natalie, it was all that was in her mind and for a moment, Gabrielle forgot what she was doing.

“Your Majesty?”

Gabrielle blinked, shaking her head a bit. “Right. You’re right, Captain. I think we’d all feel better going into this with as much force as we can. We can afford to wait two more days–if more ships arrive in that time, we’ll use them as well. If not, we have no choice but to attack with what we have.”

Natalie gave a nod, smiling a little. “That sounds good to me. Thank you for being so reasonable.”

“This is your domain, I’m just visiting,” Gabrielle said, smiling back and trying to look like she wasn’t looking at Natalie’s lips.

Natalie laughed. “Speaking of which, I’d like to invite you to dinner on my ship tonight. I’m sure you’ll want to see the ship you’ll be riding into battle, no?”

“I…” Gabrielle swallowed a little, trying not to let her mind be filled with a lot of dirty thoughts. God, she was just as bad as Gavin. “I am honoured by your invitation, Captain. I accept.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you this evening, then.”

“Yes,” Gabrielle agreed. “I’ll see you then.”

Gabrielle would also see Natalie a lot before then, in her imagination while she wondered what it would be like to kiss the captain.


	26. Daniel/Sam, Grapholagnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More intense crack that isn't going to happen, but which I had a lot of fun writing regardless. I think Sam and Daniel could be friends if Sam wasn't so Sam, honestly. There's some nsfw stuff at the end.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/05/a-couple-many-requests-i-figured-out-sort-of/): "Grapholagnia - The urge to stare at obscene pictures, Daniel x Sam," by stevewestenra, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“It’s in here somewhere.”

“Okay.” Daniel looked around. “But it’s a really big library. Here somewhere is a lot of books to look in.”

“Then get looking,” Sam told him, irritable. Sam was always irritable, except when he was killing people. Daniel still wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was powerful in a blustery way that Daniel had learned to recognize as being a front, even if he did have the power to back it up. It was very strange.

“Do you have any idea what part of the library it might be in?” Daniel asked. The specific book Sam wanted seemed very broad to Daniel, so he wasn’t sure where to even look.

“Do I give the impression of being someone who reads a lot?” Sam snapped.

Daniel looked at him, looked Sam up and down, glancing at his eyes, unfocused. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just find the damned thing.”

“Okay, okay.” Daniel sighed, went to the closest shelf. Apparently he was Sam’s librarian now.

Well, Daniel liked books, so that wasn’t so bad. Sam went and sat in one of the chairs, obviously intending to just sit there until Daniel found what he wanted.

He really had no idea how big this place was. It went on for quite a while, and there was a second level.

Daniel read the titles on the spines of the books, carefully searching for the one Sam wanted. It wasn’t too arduous, though every so often there would be a book with no title and he’d have to get it off the shelf and check inside to see what it was, which took longer.

“Why do you even have all these books?” Daniel asked as he looked, to fill the silence that was made strange by Sam just sitting there.

“They belonged to Solomon,” Sam said, tilting his head over to where Daniel was. “I don’t imagine he’d read most of them. He just liked to have things.”

“He must have read some of them,” Daniel muttered, taking another titleless book off the shelf and looking through it. It was a description of plants. He put it back. “There’s no point in having this many books if you aren’t going to read any of them.”

“I didn’t ask him before he died,” Sam grumbled. “Read them yourself if you’re that worried about it.”

Daniel smiled. “I will.”

Sam made a noise and Daniel went back to looking. He wished he knew what to make of Sam. Were they friends? Did he like Sam? Did Sam like him? Was he here for a reason or had Sam just been bored the day he’d taken Daniel here? According to Henry, Sam killed people who bored him, so it wasn’t clear why Daniel was still alive, since Sam hardly seemed to be interested in him most of the time.

Everyone was afraid of Sam, but Daniel mostly felt bad for him. He hadn’t asked to be born in the situation he had and be raised the way he had been. It didn’t excuse what he’d chosen to do with his life, but it maybe because Daniel had also done a lot of things that people would call bad, he sympathized a little bit.

On the other hand, he had a feeling there was a whole side of Sam that he hadn’t seen beyond the grumpy, kind of sharp boy sitting here. Maybe he was scarier at other times than Daniel had seen him so far.

Another book without a title. Daniel sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Daniel said, taking it off the shelf. “Some of the books don’t have anything written on them, so I keep having to…”

Well, _that_ wasn’t what he’d expected.

“Having to what?” Sam demanded.

“Having to take them off the shelves and look in them,” Daniel muttered, looking down at the picture he’d opened to in this book. It was…very detailed. A very detailed picture of two people having sex.

Flipping the page proved that there was another picture on the next page, and then another. It was a whole book of very graphic illustrations of different kinds of sex.

Face burning red and glad that Sam couldn’t see him, Daniel kept looking down at the pages, not able to tear his eyes away.

“Did you find it?”

“No,” Daniel said, shaking his head, tearing his eyes away from the book, intending to put it back on the shelf. And remember where it was so he could look at it later.

“Then why are you all quiet all of the sudden?”

Oops. “No reason.”

“You’re a liar.”

That was true, and Daniel sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If there’s one thing that’s going to piss me off, it’s keeping secrets from me for no reason, Daniel,” Sam warned, half-rising from his chair. “Especially about something stupid.”

Daniel watched him, wondering if Sam would really get violent over a book. He kind of reminded Daniel of Marcus, albeit a much more intense and violent version. “It’s got pictures in it, that’s all.”

“Pictures.”

“Of people. Um. having sex. And stuff.”

“Oh.” Sam paused, a strange expression crossing his face. Then he sat down again, with a sigh. “And now you’re distracted by it.”

“Maybe…a little,” Daniel admitted, glancing down at the image in front of him, in which three people were contorted.

Sam huffed. “Look at it, then. My book can wait.” He smirked a little bit. “Wouldn’t want your hormones to go unanswered.”

Beet red, Daniel considered refusing, but the lure was too great. “Okay.”

Sam snickered. “Should I give you some privacy?” he teased.

“No, that’s okay!”

“So you’ll just touch yourself right here in front of me? Didn’t figure you for the type.”

“I…” Daniel didn’t see much of a way out of this that wasn’t going to embarrass him. “I wasn’t going to…”

“If you say so,” Sam said, still smiling. “Come sit down, then.”

Feeling like he might combust, Daniel did as he was told, sitting in the chair beside Sam’s an opening the book on his lap, which wasn’t as flat as it normally was.

“See anything you like?” Sam asked after a second.

Daniel looked over at him, biting his lip. And he paused, realizing something. Sam as flushed in the face too. He was teasing Daniel because he was interested in the book too.

Oh, well that changed a few things. Daniel looked down at the picture in his lap “Yeah. This one’s of two men, one of them has the other pressed against the wall, and he’s…fucking him from behind,” Daniel said, trying not to stumble over the words he didn’t often string together aloud. “And biting his neck.”

Sam smiled. “Bet that hurts.”

“The other man seems to like it. He’s hard too, you can see in the picture,” Daniel said, mostly watching Sam. He’d been right, Sam was interested. He flipped the page. “This one’s got three men, one of them is on his hands and knees…”

Sam listened attentively as Daniel went on describing the pictures for him, not hiding that he was as hard as Daniel. They never did go back to looking for that other book.


	27. Nicholas/Isaac, Strikhedonia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just boys having fun.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/06/strikhedonia-with-isaac-and-nicholas/): "Strikhedonia--the pleasure of being able to say "to hell with it,"" with Isaac and Nicholas," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/send-me-a-word-and-a-characterseriespairing-and/). 

\---

“I dare you to jump in.”

Nicholas sighed. Isaac was so childish. “I’m not jumping in the pond.”

“Why not? It’s hot, you’re sweaty, there’s a pond.” Isaac shrugged. “I’ll jump in with you, come on.” 

He was already taking off his shirt. 

“I’m sweaty because I was running,” Nicholas explained. He had been. He liked to keep in shape, and that was something that he’d been taking more seriously since his adventure with Owen at the banquet. He didn’t want to get in another situation like that and screw it up because he didn’t have the stamina. Nicholas was considering learning how to use a sword too, just in case. 

Heroes in stories always used swords, even if they were mages like him. There was no reason he couldn’t use one too. 

“Yeah, and now you’re not running, so you should cool off with me.”

It was past sundown, and Nicholas didn’t want to ask why Isaac had been out here walking. He’d assumed his run would go unbothered if he came out at this time, but apparently not. 

“It’s a waste of time,” Nicholas told him. Isaac never seemed to do anything but fool around, and though Nicholas didn’t dislike him as a person, he was really irresponsible and it was obnoxious. 

“Time you’d be using to have a bath anyway,” Isaac stressed. His shirt was on the ground and he was undoing his shorts now.

“What are you doing?” Nicholas demanded.

“Taking off my clothes, what’s it look like?” Isaac told him, giving Nicholas a funny look. 

Nicholas looked away, shaking his head. Isaac was so predictable. “I knew you were just looking for an excuse to strip.”

“I don’t need an excuse to strip,” Isaac told him. “What, come on, you never swam with your friends back home? Or maybe you stayed fully clothed while you did.”

“I didn’t.” Contrary to what Isaac believed, Nicholas was a perfectly ordinary boy who’d played games with his friends as a kid. 

“Then why not do it now?”

“ _Why_ do it now?” Nicholas countered. “It’s late, it’s dark, we should go to bed.”

“It’s fun,” Isaac said, shorts dropping. Of course he wasn’t wearing smallclothes, so now he was naked. “Are you just not allowed to have fun ever?”

Nicholas sighed, looking at the pond. He was hot. “Someone might see us.”

“Swimming?” Isaac asked. “Who cares. Come on.” And he ran, leapt into the water with a splash. It wasn’t really that deep, but it was deep enough at this part to jump in, anyway. 

Nicholas considered turning and going back to the dormitory now that Isaac was distracted. But there was nobody around and…he did kind of want to swim. 

After a moment’s indecision, Nicholas sighed. “Fine,” he said, stripping out of his clothes–all of them, though that took another moment’s thought–and following Isaac into the water. 

“See?” Isaac asked, splashing him. “You didn’t melt. Fun didn’t kill the chosen one.”

“Shut up,” Nicholas muttered, splashing Isaac back. 

That escalated quickly into a splash fight that turned into a dunking contest and water wrestling, which Nicholas won, forcing Isaac to admit that he was the victor by holding him in a headlock for a good minute, and it was…not weird. Isaac didn’t grab at him anywhere he wasn’t comfortable being grabbed, ogle him even though they were really close, make any lewd comments, even when the movement and friction and contact caused a normal physical reaction in Nicholas, or behave inappropriately at all. It was just like playing in the water with any other boy, and it kind of made Nicholas feel bad for assuming that Isaac wouldn’t have behaved. He had said he’d respect Nicholas’s wish to just be normal friends, after all. Obviously he’d meant that. 

It was…fun. It was a very fun time, and they played in the water like children for a good hour before, panting, Nicholas realized how late it must be. “We should go in,” he said, looking up at the moon. 

“I guess,” Isaac sighed, floating on the surface of the water. “I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“You don’t have to sound like admitting that is killing you.”

“Maybe it is,” Nicholas joked, wading to the shore where they’d left their clothes, which were still sitting there in two piles. 

Nicholas looked at them, and then over his shoulder at Isaac, who was still floating. “You coming?”

“In a second, yeah.”

Nicholas smirked, an idea coming to him. He got out, shaking himself off a little bit and pulling his clothes on. He used Isaac’s shirt to dry his hair. 

And he stood there, waiting until Isaac finally started to get out. When he was about halfway to the shore, Nicholas smirked, picked up Isaac’s clothes. “You stole my smallclothes last time.”

“Yeah,” Isaac admitted, not abashed. “Threw them in here, actually. They’re probably around…wait, Nicholas no.”

“See you at the dormitory, Isaac.” Nicholas took off running. 

“Nicholas!” Naked, Isaac chased after him, and Nicholas laughed all the way back to the dormitory. He was allowed to be irresponsible and have fun sometimes too.


	28. Henry/Sam, Somnophilia (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of several drabbles that are based on a nsfw writing prompt list that I reblogged, so expect several chapters of porn in a row. Usual warnings for Sam and Henry apply, with the added element that Henry didn't consent to sex while he was sleeping.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-sexsomnophilia/): "Wake up in the middle of the night sex/somnophilia for Henry and Sam maybe," by an anon, based on [this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/). 

\---

Henry was having a good dream, for once. He was out on a horse, not going anywhere, just riding for fun, being outside and away from the castle that had abruptly become his home.

The sky was dotted with strange cats, but that seemed normal. 

At some point, though, Henry wasn’t alone anymore. Sam was there with him, smiling in a way that Sam never smiled. “Come on,” Sam said, pulling Henry along somewhere, until they fell onto some grass that was a lot softer than grass was. 

Sam was on top of him now, touching him, touching his face, astride him, moving his hips, moving, and Henry was hot, and close and buried, he could feel himself inside Sam as Sam smiled down at him. “It’s okay…”

The field of grass faded a little, got a lot darker. Sam was moving on Henry’s cock a lot harder, grunting as he did, riding Henry. He remembered that smile, the assurance that it was okay, and Henry reached up and grabbed Sam’s hips, thrusting up into Sam, making him go harder, aware now that it was a dream anyway so it didn’t matter what he did. 

“Ng,” Sam grunted when Henry started moving himself, but he stayed there, stayed sitting on Henry’s cock, riding him, groaning a little with each thrust. “Fuck…fuck…”

Henry got faster, harder as he got closer, worried that the dream would end before he could cum. Frantic, he fucked Sam hard, driving into him from below in his need to finish, to see this through. He could still picture Sam’s smile. 

“Fuck!” Sam said, audibly as he went stiff under Henry’s hands, and a second later something warm splattered onto Henry’s chest. 

All Henry could think was that was an odd detail for a dream to have before he fell over the edge himself, arching his back as he shot up into Sam with a cry that sounded strange to him. 

When he was done, spent, Henry fell back, smiling up at the black sky. “Thanks…”

“Asshole,” Sam muttered, and that sounded more like him than he had before. “If I’d known you were going to do that I’d have fucked you instead. Teach me to indulge my curiosity.”

“So grumpy…” Henry muttered to him, pulling Sam down into a cuddle. “Y’should smile again…I liked that…”

“Liked what you…” A sigh. “You’re not even awake. You didn’t even fucking wake up, did you?”

“Mmmm…” Henry said, holding Sam there until he stopped struggling, let Henry hold him the way he needed to be held. “That’s better.” He felt himself slipping into something else, something deeper than this, back to his field where Sam smiled and the sky had cats in it.


	29. Hugh/Theodore, Body Swap (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings for Slavery apply, which are self evident. Hugh is Theodore's underage sex slave, for anyone not following that story.
> 
> This one is either noncanonical or is set in the past of the main story and possibly still noncanonical, who knows.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/hmm-ive-got-way-too-many-ideas-xd-how-about/): "How about number 10 [Body Swap] with Hugh and Theodore?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/)

\---

“According to my friend, the spell ought to wear off in a few weeks, but we can facilitate it ending faster by reenacting what we were doing just before it happened.”

Hugh was listening, he was listening to what Theodore was saying, but all he was thinking really was _is that really what my voice sounds like?_ He sounded like a duck trying to seduce someone.

_Theodore_ sounded like a duck trying to seduce someone. And he looked like Hugh, skinny and with bags under his eyes that Hugh had never known he had. And Hugh looked like Theodore, big and too tall. It was weird. 

But then, Theodore had already done to Hugh’s body just about everything that Hugh could imagine. Inhabiting it for a little while was just one more thing in a long list of things that he would have rather avoided.

“Hugh?”

“Yes,” Hugh nodded Theodore’s head down at himself. His voice was so deep. “I’m listening, Master.”

“I think it’s best if we go with the second option. As lovely as your body is, I’d rather have my own, wouldn’t you?”

Hugh swallowed, watching himself move. “Yes, Master. I would.” 

“Very good.” Theodore nodded, and he with an awkwardness that Hugh wouldn’t have expected, he took Hugh’s shirt off, left himself naked on the bed. Hugh got a good look at his own body. He was smaller than he thought, and the growing hair that was so obvious to him normally was impossible to see from here. “Then let’s get to it, shall we?” He took a bottle of oil that they’d used last night and spread it on his hands. 

“Right.” Hugh took a bracing breath, then undid the belt on Theodore’s nightcoat, let it fall to the floor as he climbed on the bed as well, unused to being this big. Theodore was underneath him, too young, younger than Hugh thought he was. 

“No need to be nervous,” Theodore said, pulling Hugh closer and leaning up to kiss him. Hugh tried to kiss him back, not sure how to do it when he was this big. He would have said it was the weirdest thing that he could have imagined, kissing himself, but he knew what was coming, so it wasn’t by a long margin.

Hugh nodded. “Master, have you…”

“Done this before?” Theodore smiled, a sly grin that looked wrong on Hugh’s face. “Yes, I’ve some experience, Hugh. And I daresay your body is well suited to handle this. Please don’t worry.”

Hugh wasn’t worried about Theodore, he was worried about hurting Theodore and getting in trouble for it. He hadn’t survived this long to be cast aside or killed because he didn’t know how to be this tall. “Alright, Master. I’ll be very careful, though. Can you tell me if it hurts?”

“Of course, Hugh. That’s very thoughtful of you,” Theodore said, kissing Hugh again before reaching down and gently taking him in hand. Right, he was going to need an erection for this. Hugh wasn’t unused to not having those, but if they were going to redo what they’d done yesterday, it was going to be important. 

So he let Theodore get him hard, kind of surprised that he could. They had to do this, Hugh reminded himself, if he was going to go back to the size and shape he liked being. Or was used to being, at least.

So, kissing himself back, Hugh reached down and prepared to stretch Theodore, found his own hand already there, something Hugh had never done for himself. Theodore smiled at him, and together they went about getting each other ready.

It didn’t take long, and soon Theodore removed his fingers and pulled Hugh by the dick until he was positioned right there, urging him to push in, spreading his legs to let him. 

To _let_ him. Hugh realized very suddenly that he was the big one here, he was the one who was in charge, or could be. He could stop, pull away, make it so none of this happened, and Theodore wouldn’t be able to make him. 

Hugh’s collar was glinting on Theodore’s neck. 

The spell would wear off in a few weeks, though, and they’d be back to normal, and who knew what Theodore would do to punish him then? He was always kind and friendly and even sweet to Hugh because of Denny, but Hugh knew. He knew that Theodore was dangerous, that he was frightening when he was angry. 

No. Hugh wasn’t going to risk his own safety, his own survival, on something that wasn’t going to pay off. He was still a slave, no matter what he looked like, and he had to do what Theodore said if he wanted to survive.

So he pushed forward, pressing into himself. Watching, fascinated, as he disappeared into his own hole, knowing it shouldn’t fit, that he shouldn’t fit, but knowing that it did, that he would, as he had countless times before. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like where he was supposed to be, even as he knew it was wrong, that it was awful, that he shouldn’t want it.

And yet, when he saw his last inch slip in, Theodore’s pubic hair nestled between his legs, Hugh did, and he made a small sound that came out louder than he thought.

Theodore was spread-eagled on the bed, eyes on Hugh. “That’s the way,” he panted, flushed from forehead to nipples. “Keep going, it’s fairly elementary from here.”

Hugh nodded, and he started moving his hips, pushing into Theodore, fucking himself. Theodore wasn’t hard but Hugh grabbed him, stroked him in tune with his thrusts, rubbed his own dick to hardness. He wanted to show Theodore that it could be nice for both of them, if he tried.

Theodore sounded surprised when he whinged, a sound that Hugh didn’t think he made. But there it was, coming from his lips, again and again, as Hugh picked up speed, going faster and harder and rougher as he forgot he was supposed to be not hurting Theodore. He forgot that, he forgot that he was supposed to hate this, he forgot everything and then he remembered it all in an explosion as he shouted out, filling himself with Theodore’s cum, closing his eyes to the sight. 

When he opened them again, looking down at Theodore in his body, at himself, he was surprised to see a line of cum there, on his belly, almost to his chin. He hadn’t even noticed.

Theodore was looking up at him, panting. “It doesn’t seem to have worked,” he said, in Hugh’s duck voice.

Hugh shook his head, sweat falling from his forehead. “No, Master. What should we do?”

“The only thing we can do, Hugh.” Theodore wrapped Hugh’s legs around his waist, looking him in the eye. “Try again.”


	30. Todd/Sam Fuck or die (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading Villain you know Todd and Sam is not a happy combination. Very graphic rape in this chapter, and the victim is ambiguously a minor (age never stated but he's a servant boy).

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/this-is-horrible-but-fuck-or-die-for-sam-and-todd/): "This is horrible but fuck or die with Sam and Todd," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/). 

\---

“What the fuck is this?” his Majesty snarled, moving strangely as he tried to get his bearings in the strange white room they’d woken up in. 

Todd had been sweeping a floor and he’d suddenly passed out. Now he was here, in this room with no door. With the Sorcerer King.

Suffice it to say, he was terrified. 

He must have made a noise, because King Sam turned, facing his general direction, fury on his face. “Who’s there?” he demanded. 

Todd’s skin crawled in that way it did when he was around his Majesty, that way that wasn’t normal, that he was sure had to do with his magic. King Sam would kill him, he knew. Todd didn’t know why he hadn’t already. “It’s me!” he called out, hoping he would’t be blamed for this. “It’s Todd, your Majesty.”

A growl from the king. “What the fuck…”

He was cut off by a sudden voice that came from everywhere. “Welcome, guests.”

“Who the fuck are you?” King Sam demanded, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“I am one who administers tests.”

“You’re testing the wrong person.”

Todd just cowered a little, though there was nothing to cower behind. 

“Perhaps so. I’m sure you wonder where you are.” The voice was sterile, maybe male, calm, more calm than anyone should be when faced with the king’s wrath. “You are in my domain. The room you are currently in has no door at the moment, but one can be produced for you if you meet the criteria.”

“I’m not playing some fucking game with you.” King Sam was getting angrier and angrier, and that meant someone was going to die painfully, and the only person here was Todd. 

“Indeed. In twenty minutes, the room you are in will fill with toxic gas, suffocating both of you to death.”

A silence fell. 

“Are you interesting in meeting my criteria now?”

King Sam was visibly shaking, fists clenched. “What criteria?”

“If you wish for the door to appear, you two must engage in copulation.”

Todd didn’t know what that meant.

King Sam obviously did. “You want us to fuck.”

_Oh._ Todd’s stomach dropped, and he started to back away, feeling bile in his throat. 

“I realize you may find this distasteful, but it is necessary for me to ascertain whether your will to survive overrides social conventions that would normally prohibit a king and his servant from…”

The voice was still talking when Todd felt himself lifted in the air and slammed into the nearest wall. King Sam was undoing his pants as he approached, mostly just looking irritated now. 

There was nothing Todd could do. He knew that, he knew that one from experience. He closed his eyes, tried not to whimper, and let the king close the rest of the distance.

A hand on the waistband of his pants, a ripple, and the pants tore, smallclothes and all, leaving Todd’s backside completely exposed. _It will be over soon, it will be over soon,_ he told himself. It would be, it hadn’t taken long the first time either. It would just feel like longer. The voice had stopped talking. 

“Keep quiet,” King Sam told him, pressing Todd’s head against the wall with one hand and pressing his cock against Todd’s hole with the other. “I’m not in the mood to listen to you cry.”

Todd nodded as best he could, and his Majesty tore into him in one go, lubricated by something. Maybe he’d done it with his magic, Todd thought irrationally, to make it easier. 

It didn’t make it easier, but King Sam did slide in fairly quickly, pushing past all the resistance Todd put up without meaning to, clenching down to try and keep him out, but it didn’t work, he knew it wasn’t going to work, and it just made it hurt as his Majesty forced his way inside, tearing as he went.

Todd wanted to keep quiet, he did, he didn’t want to give the king any reason to be mad at him. He kept his mouth clenched shut as his Majesty started thrusting in and out, grunting quietly as he did. Todd bit his tongue when the king started to go faster, until he tasted blood. 

The pain should have faded but it didn’t, it just kept hurting as King Sam used him, merciless and uncaring. At least he didn’t break Todd’s arm like he had last time.

Then it was done, a louder grunt Todd’s only warning before the king came inside him, pumping him full as he fisted Todd’s hair. Then he pulled out all at once, turning away. “I’ll take that door now.”

“You…you have passed the test.” The voice sounded surprised. It obviously hadn’t realized who it was dealing with. “The exit is yours, to your left.”

King Sam turned away, headed there, leaving Todd slumped against the wall, tears on his cheeks. He hadn’t made any noise, though. 

“Do you not intend to help your servant?” the voice asked.

Todd let out a laugh, a bitter sound. 

King Sam just snorted. “You like watching, I assumed you’d like to have a turn. Keep him if it means you’ll leave me alone from now on.”

And King Sam found the door, opened and it and left Todd there on the floor, laughing to himself.


	31. Edwin/Owen, Trapped together (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just sex in this one.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/what-if-i-tell-you-94-with-owen-and-edwin/): "What if I told you 94 [trapped together] with Owen and Edwin?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“Is your boyfriend ever going to come back with that ladder?” Edwin demanded.

“My boyfriend is your prince,” Owen reminded him, in that annoying voice of his. “And no, probably not.”

Edwin sighed. “Great.” Three hours since he and Owen had fallen into this hole that was just here for no reason, too deep to escape from. Three hours since Gavin had left, promising to come back with a ladder and telling them to get “better acquainted” and winking before going. 

Edwin was quite certain that Gavin had dug the fucking hole, like some deranged zookeeper or something. The only evidence to contradict that was that Gavin was fucking useless and probably wouldn’t know where to look for a shovel unless it was stuck up Owen’s ass.

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do, then?” Edwin asked, sighing. “Just starve? Live down here? Become moles?”

Owen smirked. “He’ll let us out if we do what he wants.”

“Well, what does he fucking want?” Edwin asked, exasperated. Of course Owen hadn’t brought this up three hours ago. 

“That’s exactly it, actually. He wants us to fuck.”

“Wh…what.”

Owen shrugged. “Gavin is of the opinion that you and I have secret sexual tension that we need to work out. Preferably naked and preferably releasing it through our cocks. into each other.”

Edwin flushed bright red, turned away. He moved as far from Owen as he could get, which was about two paces. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I told him you’d say that.”

“As if I’d want to have sex with you. I mean, with you? God, I’d rather eat earthworms for the rest of my life.” Edwin started searching around for purchase, find a handhold that felt good. He was going to get out of here if it killed Owen.

“I feel the same way,” Owen told him, sounding amused.

Edwin frowned. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked, daring a look at Owen over his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” Owen said, giving another infuriating shrug. “You’re not Gavin.”

“Thank fucking God,” Edwin muttered, hefting himself up, making good progress. Until everything collapsed in a cascade of earth, and he fell, twisting, fell some more, landed on Owen with a thud that sent them both to the ground. “Fuck.”

“You okay?”

“Fine, I’m fine.” Edwin huffed, looking up. He was on top of Owen, in his goddamn arms like some princess. He blushed some more, looking up at Owen. He looked so worried, as if the possibility that Edwin had hurt himself honestly worried Owen. 

Edwin wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but suddenly they were kissing. Just for a second, and then they pulled away. “Um.”

“Hi.”

“Yeah.” Edwin looked away. “So if we…have sex, he’ll let us out?”

“Pretty sure.”

“It’s…worth a try?” Edwin asked. “Not because I like you. Just because I don’t like being in this hole with you. In fact it’s because I don’t like you at all and this is the only way to escape and…”

Owen kissed him again, made him stop talking. “I get it. You want a blowjob?”

Edwin blushed, looked away from Owen. “Yes.”

There was a rushed moment of moving around while they figured out how to sit, and then Edwin was with his back to the wall and Owen between his legs, unlacing Edwin’s pants and deftly removing Edwin from his pants. “You’re awfully hard for someone who doesn’t want to do this.”

“The advantage of a blowjob is that I don’t have to hear you talk,” Edwin grumbled.

“Right,” Owen grinned, licked Edwin briefly, and then engulfed him while Edwin was mid-gasp. 

Owen was…obnoxiously good at this, Edwin realized immediately. He had great tongue technique and knew how to use it in tune with his suction and his hand was on Edwin’s balls and he…

It was really hard to remain objective about this the longer it went on, and really after the first minute or so all Edwin could think was _wow, yes, keep going, fuck, yes._

He didn’t last as long as he’d have liked, and a moment later Edwin was shooting into Owen’s mouth, which he’d made the conscious decision not to warn Owen about because screw him. Which Edwin was probably about to do, so that was okay. 

Owen pulled off when he was done, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and grinning at Edwin. “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” Edwin admitted, short of breath. He watched Owen, who was suddenly a lot more…not attractive, but a lot more not-repulsive than he’d been before. “You want to take off your pants?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s grin widened. “Turn over.”

“Yeah.” Edwin started to do that, then paused. “Wait, no. You turn over. I’ll top.”

“Nah,” Owen said, unlacing his pants and pulling his cock, already hard, out. “You just came and I didn’t, and I’m better at it than you anyway. I’ll top.”

“What…” The offer of the blowjob had been so Owen could pull this, Edwin realized. “You asshole.”

“Yep. Turn over. Don’t make me pull rank, squire.”

Edwin had walked into this one, and Owen was moving in such a way as to make it clear that he was going to get his way.

“Fine,” he decided, figuring that Owen wasn’t…the worst person ever to do this with. “You’d better not be exaggerating your skill.”

In response, Owen just gave another infuriating grin and helped Edwin roll over. 

It turned out he wasn’t exaggerating.


	32. Sam/Henry, Sex fails (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sam and Henry one, but mostly it's just kind of funny?

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/sam-and-a-sex-fail/%22): "Sam and a sex fail," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Henry was almost asleep when Sam started grinding against him. “Sam?”

“Shut up,” Sam grumbled, cock rubbing Henry’s thigh. “Don’t move. I’m just going to cum before I go to sleep.”

“We could have done something before we got in bed,” Henry muttered.

“I wasn’t hard then. I am now. Now shut the hell up, Henry.”

Henry shut up, letting Sam grind him. The position wasn’t the best for it, which Henry could already tell but Sam obviously couldn’t. He couldn’t get enough traction there, his movement was limited. He might cum eventually, but this was Sam and Henry knew he wasn’t going to have the patience for that.

Sure enough, Sam started to get irritated the longer this went on, and soon he was growling. “Fuck this,” He muttered, putting his hands on Henry’s shoulders, and making to roll him so that Sam would be on top of him. 

Sam overdid the roll, though, rolled too far, over Henry, and pulled them both right off the bed. 

Henry blinked up at the ceiling, trying for a second to realize what had happened. And when he did, he had to stop himself from laughing. 

That was when he realized that Sam was underneath him. Before Henry could roll over, he was lifted by magic, tossed aside, hitting the wall and landing in a pile on the floor. 

“You okay?” Henry asked, coughing a little as he righted himself. 

“I’m fine. I’m fucking…I’m fine, Henry. You can sleep there tonight, I’m tired of you.” 

“Do you want some help? You’re still hard.”

“No. Go to sleep,” Sam snapped.

And Sam climbed up into the bed, got under the blankets with an elaborate huff, and a moment later Henry could hear what was obviously him masturbating to deal with the boner he still had. 

It was all Henry could do not to laugh.


	33. Nicholas/Isaac, Car sex (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good old fashioned sex with your rival in a hot car in a public parking lot while you wait for your boyfriend to get back from buying snacks. That old relatable time.
> 
> I keep accidentally writing the Isaac ones from his POV even when I'm trying to experiment with others, haha.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/it-would-probably-have-to-be-in-the-modern-au-but/): "It would probably have to be in the modern AU, but in a car/vehicle with Isaac and Nicholas or Peter?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“You know you’re really hot like that.”

Nicholas sighed, standing there sweating as he put gas in the car. “Shut your trap.”

“I’m just saying,” Isaac said, leaning on the car. “That you’re all masculine and in charge, driving the car and putting gas in it and shit. It’s very attractive, if you happen to be attracted to masculinity.”

“Which you are.”

“Which I am,” Isaac confirmed. “Just watching you is making me horny.”

They’d had sex enough times that Isaac figured he could just say that to Nicholas in a gas station parking lot in the middle of nowhere while they waited for Peter to come back with snacks for the rest of their long car trip to the camping site everyone was visiting for their long weekend. 

“Postage stamps make your horny,” Nicholas said, finishing with the gas and putting the pump away.

Isaac frowned. “Maybe one with a dick on it,” he mused, thinking about it. “Anyway, the point is, it’s hot, we’re all hormonal and horny and you’re very attractive with all your car knowledge.” He straightened, fished into his pockets and smiled at Nicholas, pressing some things into his hands. “So here’s a condom and some lube, and I’m going to be in the back seat when you’re done paying for the gas.”

Nicholas looked at Isaac for a long second, huffing before he pulled out his wallet to pay for the gas. Isaac grinned and got in the car, already undoing his cut-offs.

He’d slid them down and had just figured out a way to lay down without the seatbelts burning his skin off when the back door opened again, and Nicholas was there, pants already unzipped and condom already on his hard dick. “I remember a time when you were afraid to let anyone see the waistband of your underwear,” Isaac teased. “Now you’re putting a condom on in a parking lot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nicholas crawled on top of Isaac. “I remember a time when you hated talking to me. Now you’re propositioning me in a parking lot.”

“Yes,” Isaac agreed, nodding as Nicholas looked for his goal. “But I would have propositioned you even when I didn’t like talking to you, is the difference. Ah…”

Nicholas knew full well that Isaac was stretched already, since Isaac had been fingering himself in the backseat of the car for the last little while, just for fun. It was what Nicholas got for making him sit in the back. So, lubed and protected, Nicholas just pushed right in, sliding up into where Isaac wanted him to be, hands on Isaac’s shoulders to keep him in place.

Nicholas had the cutest face when he was inside Isaac, this amazing combination of concentration and borderline ecstasy that Isaac couldn’t get enough of. His thrusts were still inexpert but getting better, deeper and longer, but as always what he lacked in skill he made up for in pure enthusiasm. The car rocked as he thrust in and out of Isaac, and Isaac kept his hands on Nicholas’s sides to keep him in place as he did.

Nicholas’s face scrunched up when he started to get close, and so Isaac could tell when he was there. “Come on, big guy, you can do it. You like fucking me in your dad’s car? Come on, come on…”

Nicohlas came on, groaning as he filled his condom. He held himself in place for a moment, just keeping Isaac full, sweating through his shirt, then he leaned back a little, taking his hands off Isaac’s shoulders and looking further south. He smiled, took Isaac’s dick in hand. “You didn’t cum, did you?”

“You’d be able to see if I did,” Isaac told him, panting. “Your aim still sucks.”

“I’m hoping to improve a lot over the weekend,” Nicholas said, giving Isaac a stroke.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice called out from behind. “You two done?”

“Yeah,” Nicholas said, smiling over his shoulder. He let go of Isaac and pulled out, backing out of the car. “You want a turn?”

“Sure.” Peter smiled at Isaac, pulled a condom out of his pocket.

Isaac had been such a good influence on him, honestly. 

“He’s all yours,” Nicholas said, peeling his condom off and tossing it in a nearby garbage can with perfect accuracy. He forgot to tie it off, but Isaac would talk to him about that later. 

“Thanks,” Peter said, climbing in the backseat, putting his cane on the floor as he climbed on top of Isaac. “Hey.”

“Hey. Lube’s in the cup holder.”

By the time Peter had gotten his condom on, his pants down and himself positioned, Nicholas was back in the car, revving it up. “Don’t get cum on the seats,” he said as he started to drive. “My dad will castrate me.”

“Duly noted,” Peter said, grinning down at Isaac. “I’m sure Isaac can hold it in until we get to the campsite. It’s only what, five more hours?”


	34. James/Ron, Predator/Prey (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit ambiguous--if you read it as being in the regular story, it's just a negotiated role play between them. If you don't and put it in an AU, it strays into noncon territory, so it's up to you which you'd prefer.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/27/hi-could-you-do-69-predatorprey-hunting-with/): "Could you do 69. Predator/Prey, Hunting with James and Ron?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

James didn’t run as he made his way through the woods. He didn’t need to, not anymore. He could hear his prey struggling, caught in one of his traps. He’d even put his bow away as he sauntered up. 

Not slowly, though. The longer his prey was trapped, the more likely he would hurt himself, and James didn’t want that. 

He broke through some bushes, striding into the clearing that his prey was trapped in, bound together at the ankles by the snare James had set before the chase had begun. “Oh no,” he said, smiling as he approached. “You’re trapped. How did that happen, I wonder?”

“Let me go!” Jame’s prey was a nice size, not scrawny but also not too big, good colouring, a lightish brown mane, reasonably groomed, moving back and forth as he struggled, writhing on the ground in a futile effort to get out of the trap. 

“Now that would defeat the purpose of catching you, wouldn’t it?” James asked, smiling. He crouched down in front of his prey, reaching into a satchel for something. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the trap off your legs in a minute.”

“If you think I’m going to sit here and let you eat me…” his prey growled.

“I hardly plan on eating you right here. I’d want to season you properly first.” James let the prey decide whether or not he was joking as he took out a pair of gloves and slid them on, making to push the prey onto his back. 

When he resisted, James raised an eyebrow. “I’m being gentle. If you’d like to be let out of this, let me help you.”

That got him a sullen glare and his prey subsided, going into a careful stillness that still suggested movement. “My name’s James. What’s yours?”

“Ron,” his prey grumbled, watching James’s hand run over his skin. 

James nodded. “You’re well-fed,” he said to himself, making mental notes. “No injuries or even scars to note. Good colouring, good complexion…”

“Do you have to do that?”

“Yes. I’m assessing you.” James smiled. “You’re a very handsome catch, you know.” He was. James couldn’t remember the last time he’d caught something he wanted to look at this badly. “And you didn’t make it easy for me.”

“You were trying to kill me,” Ron accused. “I was supposed to make it easy?”

“Who said I was trying to kill you?” James’s hand slid down a little, to his prey’s penis. “A good size down here, too. Do you have a mate?”

“I…what?”

“I asked if you have a mate? You’re the right age and you’re clearly a good candidate for mating.”

“No! I mean. No, I don’t.”

“Hm. Are you infertile?” James asked, rubbing the genitalia, finding he had no trouble bringing his prey to arousal. A good sign.

“No. I mean, I’ve never…just let me go!”

“I’m going to, I’m going to,” James told Ron, shaking his head at the impatience. “I just want to check this.”

He kept going with his stimulation, stroking Ron steadily, watching with interest as colour rose in his face from strain. “Do you like this?”

“Y…n-no…” Ron managed, looking away. “Obviously not.”

“You’re obviously lying,” James said. “And not because your body is enjoying it, that’s just how bodies work. It’s your demeanour? “Have I mentioned that you’re very attractive?” 

“Yeah…I’ll look great mounted on your wall…” Ron panted.

“Or on my bed,” James mused, still stroking him. 

“What? Ah!” Ron arched his back and had his orgasm with some force, shooting a good amount of seed onto his belly. 

“You’re definitely virile,” James said, impressed. He took his hand away, ran his finger through some of the mess and tasted him. “Hm,” he said, nodding. 

“What are you doing?”

“Tasting the seasoning.” James smiled, reached back into his bag again, coming out with a small knife and a collar and leash. 

“What…”

James didn’t give Ron time to finish as he snapped the collar on and used the knife to cut his feet free. “There you go,” he said, standing up and giving a tug. “Come on.”

“Come where?”

“Home. Let’s go.”

“Wait! What are you doing?”

“Come on, boy,” James said, resolutely tugging Ron in the direction of his house. 

He was too good a catch to leave behind.


	35. Sam, Masturbation (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a kid who will grow up to be horrible exploring himself and getting caught.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/26/it-would-probably-have-to-be-in-the-modern-au-but/): "If you're still taking smut requests can I request some masturbation with Sam? Maybe that time he mentioned where Solomon caught him?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

It wasn’t like Sam had anyone to talk to about these things.

He couldn’t talk to Dad and Saul would just make fun of him and the servants weren’t to be trusted. So Sam had to figure everything out on his own. 

He was doing just fine for himself, he thought. He’d figured out how to touch his dick for fun one day when he’d been uncomfortably hard and trying to rearrange some things with comfort in mind. That had also led to him learning why his dick got hard, because why else would it, and it had taught him a few things about sex that explained the bits about what his tutor had told him that didn’t make sense.

On his own, Sam had also intuited that this wasn’t something to be done in front of other people–if for no other reason than because he didn’t need them knowing that he liked doing this, lest someone find a way to take it away from him–and that ideally his bedroom was the place to do it.

He’d also learned to keep a pair of dirty smallclothes or the corner of a blanket nearby so he didn’t get his shirt wet. 

Sam was laying on his bed, shirt tugged up under his armpits and pants around his knees, one hand firmly around himself as he stroked himself at a speed that he’d learned he liked, rubbing the top part against his other hand for friction. 

Breathing heavily, Sam imagined that it wasn’t his hands down there. That it was another boy, maybe a slightly older boy who liked to kiss him and liked the sound of Sam’s voice, who smelled just a little bit like sweat but not in a bad way. Sam’s pretend boy had very strong hands that he used very gently on Sam, and sometimes he liked to kiss Sam on his chest or belly, or even on his dick.

He was just doing that in Sam’s imagination, and Sam’s balls were contracting in a way that he knew meant he was done. He made a little sound, and felt himself start to squirt, taking his hands away so they didn’t get sticky.

It was as he was squirting that the door clicked, swung open, that he heard footsteps, familiar footsteps, come into the room. “Samson.”

Sam nearly choked on air. So much for keeping this a secret. “Hello, Dad,” he said, in a small voice. 

Solomon was quiet for a second. “We’re all eating dinner together in the dining room tonight. I expect you to be there.”

Sam swallowed, wondering if he was about to die with his pants down. “Yes, Dad. I’ll be there.”

“You’d better be.” Solomon made a noise. “I’ll leave you to your fun. See you at supper, son.”

“Yes, Dad.” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper. Dad left, door shutting behind him, and Sam’s whole body relaxed, melting a little into his mattress, breathing harder than he had been before. “Damnit.”

That he hadn’t said anything was worse than if he had. Because it meant that Solomon was waiting for a time to bring it up that would make Sam look the most stupid. 

Sam spent the whole day and all of supper worrying for a comment that never came. 

When he went to bed that night, there was a girl in his room.


	36. Gavin/Owen, Predator/Prey (nsfw, kinda)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just innuendo in this one, some touching at the end.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/27/because-gavin-the-deranged-zookeeper-is-a/): "Because Gavin the deranged zookeeper is a hilarious mental image 69 (ha!) with him hosting a Steve Erwin like nature show and making so many double entendres during filming that Owen jumps his bones once the cameras are off," by Folkendefanel, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“And look at this beauty,” Gavin said, holding the snake up for the camera. It stuck its tongue out, which would play really nicely. “Long and thick and strong. I can barely get my hands around this guy he’s so big. Speaking of which, Owen.” He turned, grinning at his assistant. “Owen here has his guy’s slightly less dangerous cousin to show us, hasn’t he?”

“Uh, yeah.” Owen swallowed, suggesting that Gavin’s meaning hadn’t gone unnoticed. Just like the last several hadn’t. The peacock joke. The excessive use of the word ‘mounting’ in relation to beetles. The offhand comment about alpha dogs.

Gavin was killing it in this episode.

Owen cleared his throat. “He’s a little smaller than his friend here, and when Gavin says a slightly less dangerous, what he means is that his poison takes twenty minutes to kill a healthy adult, rather than ten.”

“Venom, Owen,” Gavin corrected with a grin. Honestly. “Unless you spend a lot of time with long lengths of muscle in your mouth, you need to worry about venom, not poison. Remember–it’s poisonous if you bite it and you die, it’s venomous if it bites you and you die.” 

“Right, of course, venom.” Owen smiled at the camera, that disarming smile that he always had. He’d been a one-off extra in an early episode of the show who’d played well with the viewers thanks to that smile. “Don’t listen to me. Gavin’s the expert around here.”

He’d played well with Gavin too.

“That’s right. Now, don’t feel bad that you got the smaller guy, Owen. Size isn’t everything, as you well know. It’s how you use it.”

Owen seemed to be in pain as he tried not to make a face on camera.

Gavin went on. “Your guy there kills twice as many people a year because he looks less dangerous and hides better. Sometimes bigger just means clumsier. We’re going to put these two down before they get too hissed off and explode all over us. It’s a bitch to clean up.” Gavin winked. He was only allowed to swear once per episode.

There was a careful process of putting the snakes back down and then shooing them away so that they wouldn’t bite anyone. A few off-camera wranglers helped with that part. 

When they were done, Gavin stood up, gave his grin back to the people, pulled Owen into the shot. “That’s enough adventure for this week, or so I’m contractually obligated to tell you because the network doesn’t want the show running too long, so thanks for coming into the wild with Owen and I. Next week–it’s beautiful and knows it, it spends half its life trying to mate, and I’m not talking about Owen. See you then!” 

He and Owen waved at the camera for an uncomfortable second as they zoomed out and closed out the shot with a nice view of the area they were in, and finally the director yelled “cut” and Edwin turned off the camera. 

Gavin sighed, wiping sweat off his forehead. “That was good.”

“Yeah,” Owen said, grabbed Gavin’s hand and tugging him away.

“What are you doing?”

“Come here.”

“Okay?” Gavin followed Owen behind some bushes, near a tree. And he turned around, pulled Gavin and knocked him to the ground. “Owen!”

“Obsession with mounting,” climbing on top of Gavin, undoing Gavin’s belt. “Loving the taste of peacock. Obeying your alpha dog.”

Gavin grinned up at him. “So you were listening?”

Owen’s shorts were around his thighs already, and he tugged Gavin’s down too, hand around Gavin’s cock. “Yeah. And so were all your viewers. You’re lucky I waited until the camera was off.”

“That would put ratings up,” Gavin panted, as Owen worked him.

Owen snorted, hand moving down to finger Gavin, he leaned down to kiss him on the head of his cock, pausing as his grinned up at Gavin. "Tell me. Are you poisonous or venomous?”


	37. Todd/Derek, Rape, etc (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todd and Derek are characters from Villain, and for context, Todd is a victim of violent rape and Derek is a new servant. Abuse is a cycle, and there's a graphic rape in this drabble, and both characters are ambiguously quite young. 
> 
> This one is canon, also.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/27/because-ending-up-in-hel-is-a-hilariously-low/): "Because ending up in Hel is a hilariously low probability for me and because I like giving Penguin a challenge: 5. (the former not the latter)[Bad sex]; 29. [First time]; 46. [I’m sorry]; 75. [Role Reversal]; 76. [Rough sex/pain]; 101. [Wish/fantasy fulfillment] for Todd and Derek," by Folkendefanel, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

It wasn’t Todd’s fault.

It wasn’t his fault that Derek had been forced to come here, it wasn’t his fault that his Majesty was the way he was. It wasn’t his fault that the world was cruel. It wasn’t his fault that Derek slept in his smallclothes.

In the castle, a lot of respect was given to people who were closer to the Sorcerer King and didn’t get killed. Todd was his personal attendant, so he got what he wanted even from people who outranked him most of the time. Which meant that when Derek had come and Todd had asked for him to be placed in his chamber, it had been done with minimal fuss.

He’d known, as soon as he saw Derek. His round face, his trembling hands, his big eyes and soft hair. He was the kind of person who didn’t deserve to be hurt, and because of that, he was the kind of person who would be hurt. Todd wanted to protect him from that, so he extended whatever protection was afforded to him over Derek by bringing him into his bedchamber.

It wasn’t his fault that Derek slept in his smallclothes, and on his belly.

Todd couldn’t protect him from the king. He knew that. And after a few days of training him, having him meet King Sam, Todd had realized that very suddenly. Derek needed to be protected from King Sam, and Todd couldn’t do that. The king was going to rape Derek, just like he’d raped Todd, throwing him against the bed, pinning his arm behind him, pushing his face into the pillow. He was the king, he’d do what he want to who he wanted to do it to, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Maybe Henry could stop him, but he wasn’t always around.

Todd couldn’t protect Derek, sweet, adorable Derek, from the king. So, one night, laying there next to Derek, sleeping on his belly in his smallclothes, Todd decided what he had to do.

He didn’t do it that night. He stole some oil from the kitchen, hid it in his shirt, brought it to his chamber and stashed it there. He waited until the next night, talked normally with Derek like nothing was happening, and waited for him to strip out of his clothes and fall asleep like always. Todd lay there and stared at the ceiling, waiting.

He couldn’t stop King Sam from hurting Derek. All he could do was prepare Derek for it, make it so that his first time wasn’t terrible, wasn’t with the king. Nobody should have to have the king be their first. But if Todd prepared him, helped him understand what was going to happen to him, Derek might not get hurt like Todd had.

Once Derek’s soft snores were filling the room, Todd sat up. He hadn’t put out the lamp, just dimmed it, and he could make out Derek’s smooth skin in the low light, his smallclothes tight against his backside.

He really should know better than to sleep like that.

Swallowing, Todd crawled over to Derek’s cot, reached down and touched him on the back. No reaction, so Todd carefully slid Derek’s smallclothes down to his knees, looking down at his backside, now bare. It was round and plump and all Todd could picture was the king’s cock violating it, tearing it open. Derek was a year younger than Todd.

He was hard in his smallclothes, and Todd pulled himself out, biting his lip. He was shaking as his uncorked his stolen bottle of oil, poured it on his erection, some onto his hand and fingers. He carefully corked the bottle again, set it aside, and hovered his hand over Derek’s round backside.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he reached down, found Derek’s hole, and slipped a finger inside.

“Nh…” Derek stirred, shifting a little with the intrusion. Todd put a comforting hand on his lower back and slid a second finger in. “Todd?” Derek asked, bleary. “What’re you doing?”

“Shh…” Todd said, stroking his back. “I need to show you something.” He slid a third finger in.

“No…stop…it hurts…”

“I know,” Todd whispered, working all three fingers inside. They’d gone in surprisingly easy. This was easier than he’d thought. It would be so much easier for the king, who wouldn’t care about hurting Derek. He’d already have his cock buried in there, and Derek would be bleeding and crying. “But you have to let me.”

“I don’t want…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Todd told him, interrupting. “The king is going to do this to you someday, I don’t want your first time to be with him.”

“But, why…”

“Because it should be with someone who cares about you,” Todd told him, pulling his fingers out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you _are_ hurting me!”

“I know, shhh…”

Derek tried to get up, to roll over, and Todd held him down. “Let me go!”

“Shh!” Todd climbed on top of him, grabbed Derek’s arm and held it, slid his other hand, on the arm that still had bandages wrapped around it, over Derek’s mouth. “Quiet. If someone comes in, it won’t be me, it’ll be someone else. Is that what you want?” Maybe he did. Todd’s fingers had gone in awfully easy. Maybe Derek had done this before. Maybe he knew all about spreading his legs.

Whimpering, Derek shook his head. It was too easy to make him cry. He needed to learn not to be so weak, not while he was here where everyone preyed on weakness.

“That’s what I thought,” Todd said, breathing hard, shaking. His dick was rested in Derek’s crack, and he lifted his hips, taking his hand off Derek’s mouth and using it to position himself, which was harder than it seemed. He kept Derek’s arm in his hand, moving it behind his back. “It’ll happen like this,” Todd said, pinning Derek as he found the entrance with the tip of his dick. “And then this…”

Derek cried out as he pushed inside, clenching tight around him. Todd tried to reach his mouth again but couldn’t, and so he just pushed Derek’s head down into the bed. “It hurts…”

“If you think this hurts you won’t survive when the king does it,” Todd warned him, voice hoarse as he pressed through some resistance, forcing himself the rest of the way in. It was harder than Todd had thought to do this. A lot of work to get it in there in the first place. “It doesn’t last long. When it happens, just keep your mouth shut and don’t give him any reason to get mad at you. If he gets mad he’ll hurt you more.”

“ _You’re_ hurting me!” Derek hissed, crying.

“I need to show you!” Told hissed back. “What’s going to happen. I can’t let it happen to you like it did to me. You need to be prepared.”

And Todd started thrusting his hips, ramming his dick in and out of Derek, wishing that it didn’t feel as good as it did, so much better than his hand. Todd started to go faster, harder, hand tightening around Derek’s wrist, panting onto his back as he did.

Derek cried out loudly as Todd did. “Stop,” he pleaded, voice raised. “Please stop!”

“Shut up,” Todd snarled, twisting Derek’s arm and pressing his head down when he cried out in pain. Why didn’t he _understand_ that this was for his own good? Why was he so _stupid_ , so _weak_?

Derek deserved this, Todd realized. He deserved it now and he was going to deserve it when the king did it to him later.

Realizing that made Todd thrust even harder, all sense that he should avoid hurting Derek gone from his mind. He needed to hurt him, to show him that it was going to hurt, that the world hurt. He wanted to hurt him. To hurt somebody.

As Todd thrust deep into Derek, as he came inside him, pressing Derek’s face into the pillow to dampen his crying, Todd felt powerful for the first time in his life.

Shaking, panting, sweating through his shirt, Todd pulled out of Derek, let him go, got up and laid down on his own cot, staring at the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper, still tingling all over from how good it had felt. “But you had to understand.”

Sobbing into his pillow, Derek didn’t say anything. Todd hoped he understood, hoped he knew now what was going to happen.

But if anything, Derek had proven just then that he was pretty stupid. Maybe Todd would repeat the lesson tomorrow night, just to make sure he got it. 

It wasn’t Todd’s fault that Derek needed to learn this.


	38. Sully/Cal, Dirty Talk (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of porny dialogue but no action in this one.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/28/cal-and-sully-with-dirty-talk/): "Cal and Sully with dirty talk?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“What kind of horse-fucking piece of shit asshat with sewage for brains tries to pull that kind of bullshit fucking on a…”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Sullivan?” Cal asked, giving Sully one of those stupid looks of his.

Sully blinked, surprised at having been interrupted. “The fuck do you care?”

It was going to be one of those conversations where Sully got told that swearing was a lower form of communication, apparently.

“I don’t,” Cal said, giving a shrug. Oh, Sully realized. It was going to be one of _those_ conversations instead. One of the infuriating Cal conversations. “I just wonder why you can’t open your mouth without profanity spewing out.”

Sully snorted, rolled his eyes at Cal. “As if I need advice on my mouth from someone who’s breath always smells like cock.”

It didn’t really, or at least Sully hadn’t gotten close enough to find out if it did. But that didn’t matter.

Instead of getting annoyed, Cal just leaned back a little, smirked at him. “I think someone’s jealous that it’s not his cock my breath smells like.”

Sully snorted again. He may have thought about that once or twice, but it hardly mattered. “As if you don’t sit there and wonder what it tastes like.”

“It’s one of my life’s enduring goals to answer that question,” Cal said, grinning now.

Sully had no idea what was going on, but he knew if he backed down he’d lose. “Then come over here and find out.”

Cal smiled at him again, and then he got up and crossed the few steps between where they were sitting, plopped himself right down in Sully’s lap, sitting face-to-face with him. “We both know you’re too chicken to put that thing in anything other than your smallclothes.”

“Oh yeah?” Sully asked, hands coming to rest on Cal’s bony ass. “You know if you want me to fuck you, you can just say so, Calvin.”

Cal sneered at him. “And what would you do if I did? If I spread my legs right here, what would you do?”

Sully wished he wasn’t so hard, but at least Cal was too. And he wished that they weren’t close enough that he could feel that, but there it was. “If you were enough of a slut to do that? Right here outside? I’d give you what you fucking wanted, Cal. I’d ram my cock into that hole, where you’ve wanted it since you met me.”

“Better be committed, because I’d wrap my legs around you so you can’t escape. Nothing worse than someone who doesn’t finish what he starts,” Cal said, hands on Sully’s shoulders.

Sully took a breath. “You’d better believe I’d commit. I’d fuck you so hard your past lives would feel it.”

“Big talk,” Cal teased. “You’ve got big shoes to fill there.”

“And I’d cover your goddamned mouth while I do it so I don’t have to fucking listen to you.”

“That what you’re in to? You want to dominate me, Sully? You want to control me, fuck me into the ground, make me beg for it?” Cal ground against Sully now, their faces almost touching.

“Wouldn’t be fucking hard, since that’s what you want too.” Sully sneered. “I can see it in your eyes. Mick and Wes are too nice to you. You want someone who’ll put you in your place. Use you for the cock warmer you want to be.” Sully had no idea where this was coming from. He was just going with what was happening. “So yeah, that’s what I’d do. In fact, if I had my way, you wouldn’t even cum. Just me, as many times as I want. You can run to your buddies after for that. Maybe they’ll even see what I did to you and realize what a good plan it was. Wouldn’t that change your life?”

Cal was showing his teeth. “You’re all talk. If we got in bed you’d be a kitten. I’d have to hold your hand and ride you through to an orgasm because you’d be too nervous to move without it.”

“Oh yeah?” Sully was really worried that Cal was right, but it wasn’t like they were going to find out. They were just…playing? Doing whatever the fuck this was.

“Yeah.” Cal licked his lips, and then he got up from Sully’s lap, turned away.

Sully sat there, blinking, hard, not sure what had happened.

Cal took a few steps towards Sully’s tent, turned and looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “You coming? We’ve got something to settle.”

_Oh._

Sully got up, followed after Cal, suddenly out of words.


	39. Gideon/Benedict, Getting Caught (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of crack.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/): "Number 39 [Getting Caught] with Benedict and Darwin/Gideon," by two anons, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/28/i-hate-myself-xd-number-39-with-benedictdarwin/).

\---

“Is this a broom cupboard?”

“Yes.”

Gideon nodded, hands on Benedict’s shoulders as Benedict kissed a hickey into his neck. “Thought so. It’s nice.” It was bigger than some of the bedrooms he’d slept in, and the brooms against one wall were the only indication of what it was really for.

“Did you expect any less?”

“No.” Gideon rolled his eyes. “Hey, who asked you to stop?”

“You did, when you started talking about brooms, dear.” Benedict’s eyes looked right through Gideon, which sometimes made him feel nervous, but right now just made him smile.

“Well, I’ll shut up about the brooms, then.”

“Very good.”

Benedict went back to kissing marks into Gideon’s neck, and Gideon focused on finding a way to get his hands into Benedict’s overly complicated clothes. He could tear them open with magic, but that would be a good way to get him kicked out of the broom cupboard and never invited back. Benedict had trained him pretty well after the first time.

Finally, just as Gideon managed to get a hand into Benedict’s pants, Benedict pulled back, satisfied with his mark. “There we go.”

“You want to do anything besides bite me?” Gideon asked, cheeky.

A raised eyebrow. “You object to my attention?”

“No, but we’re on a schedule. Theodore’s only going to buy that we’re heading his way for so long, and _someone_ never takes a day off to come visit me,” Gideon reminded Benedict, pulling him closer again. “I’ve got needs here.”

“Of course, dear,” Benedict said, slipping his hand inside Gideon’s pants, wrapping it around his boner. “Ah, here’s one of them here.”

“Yep, that’s one of them,” Gideon panted, closing his eyes. “Please…”

“You know I can’t say no to you,” Benedict said, stroking him firmly. Another hand slid into Gideon’s pants, in between his legs, finding his hole. “Should I multitask?”

“Be my goddamn guest,” Gideon breathed, gasping as Benedict’s fingers entered him, a small noise escaping his lips. “God…”

“No, only me, Gideon.”

Gideon couldn’t tell the difference at the moment, and he got lost in the feeling.

Until light shone on them really abruptly, the door to the broom cupboard opening.

_Shit._

Theodore stood there, obviously surprised in a way that Gideon had never seen him before. “Ah. Well, I suppose now I’ve solved both the mystery of why you two were taking so long and that of what sounds were coming from this closet.”

Benedict cleared his throat. “Sir. I apologize for…”

“No need, Benedict,” Theodore smiled. “I am your employer, not your owner. My business with Gideon can wait until you’re done.”

Gideon, for his part, was still hard as nails. “Thanks, Theo. Close the door on your way out?”

“Of course.” Theodore nodded, stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then retreated.

Gideon let out a sigh, clenching his legs when Benedict tried to retreat. “Nope.”

“Gideon.” Benedict sounded almost pained.

“He didn’t fire you, did he? Plus now he knows, so we can take as long as we want.” Gideon had had a moment there where he was worried that he might have blown it, that his ability to keep tabs on Theodore would have been compromised and he’d have had to explain to some very unpleasant people why. But it seemed fine.

“That is hardly the issue,” Benedict said, quite reasonable. “It is entirely inappropriate for us to…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gideon leaned forward, kissed Benedict and grabbed him through his pants. “We’re inappropriate. This guy doesn’t care, does he? Be more like him, Benny. Get these tight clothes off and let’s see how inappropriate we can get.”


	40. Isaac/Peter, A/B/O (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have many thoughts and ideas about A/B/O universes. It's a trope I really like, and therefore have opinions on. Here are some opinions, and some sex.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/28/just-because-im-interested-in-how-youll-handle/): "Just because I’m interested in how you’ll handle it, A/B/O with Isaac and Peter," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Isaac was a little bit high, but in a good way, a way that he was used to. It was hard not to be when he’d been breathing in Peter this whole time, Peter’s scent filling his nose and convincing something old inside him that this was good, this was perfect, this was his.

Isaac didn’t think Peter was his and he actively resisted the part of his brain that wanted him to. But he did like smelling him, especially at the height of his arousal. And that was made all the easier Peter’s dick was halfway into Isaac’s mouth and three of Isaac’s fingers were buried in Peter, massaging the inside of his wet hole, making him moan and writhe on the bed as something old inside him said that was very, very good and should continue for a lot longer.

Peter wasn’t destined to continue for a lot longer, though, and he half-curled his torso as he came into Isaac’s mouth with a cry. Isaac had three fingers on his other hand up his own ass as he sucked Peter, but it was that cry, the surge of scent that came with it, that had him, with a small rub, nutting against Peter’s foot as well.

When he’d swallowed all of Peter, he pulled off and looked up at him. Still flushed bright red, Peter looked down at him, eyes sparkling a little. Isaac wasn’t the only one who was a bit high. “Better?” he asked.

Peter nodded, panting. “Better. Did you cum on my foot?”

Isaac grinned, removing both his hands from their respective holes and climbing up Peter as he did, until they were face to face. “Maybe. Marking my territory, I guess.”

Peter laughed, bumped noses with Isaac. “Loser.”

“You’d have cum on your foot too if you’d smelled what I did,” Isaac told him, resting his forehead against Peter’s. Their erections were pressed together like this. “Do you need to go again?”

Peter swallowed, quiet for a second. “Yeah, if you can.”

“I can.” Isaac kissed him, straightened a bit, and reached behind himself, grabbing Peter in one hand and carefully positioning him. “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” Peter panted, looking up at Isaac expectantly. “Me too.”

Isaac grinned down, and lowered himself onto Peter’s dick, sighing as he got it in, farther and farther, until he was properly seated. “There we go.”

“Yeah…”

Isaac put his hands on Peter’s shoulders, looking down at him as he started moving his hips. They both liked this position best, Isaac because it satisfied his stupid, outdated, unnecessary, misomegic need to be on top because _I’m a powerful alpha and I will dominate you_ but still let him be in the fun position, and Peter because it made him feel comfortable and safe and satisfied in knowing that _it’s okay, he’s in control up there and everything’s the way it’s supposed to be_ but not have to worry about getting pregnant.

It worked out okay.

Isaac breathed heavily as he rode Peter, ignoring the light sting because he hadn’t prepared himself enough and just focusing on making Peter feel good, on helping Peter through this. Peter was smiling, his eyes closed and sweat beading on his face as Isaac did all the work, his hands on Isaac’s forearms as he panted, though about halfway through he moved one hand down, found Isaac’s erection and started stroking it hard, harder than Isaac was moving on him.

Peter was going to cum first, though, Isaac had decided, and he moved faster, went deeper, because he wasn’t the one in a heat cycle and could get what he needed from someone else later easily enough.

Isaac had to hold his everything back to keep from cumming in Peter’s hand, to the point where it was almost painful, and finally he was rewarded with another of those cries, and Peter half-sat up, rearing to kiss Isaac as he came inside, filling Isaac up. Only then did Isaac let himself go, growling a little into Peter’s mouth as he came, spraying his belly and chest with cum.

Peter collapsed back when he was done, breaking the kiss, and Isaac followed him gently, not quite laying on him but hovering over him. “Good?”

“Good,” Peter said, taking his hand off Isaac’s dick and running it up his belly on the way up. He sucked on it. “More territory marking.”

“What can I say, I’m an animal.”

Peter choked a laugh, leaned up to press his forehead against Isaac’s. “Thanks.”

“Always,” Isaac promised. “You want me to clean you up?”

“Can you? Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Isaac climbed off of Peter gingerly, careful as he pulled Peter out of him, and stretched as he got off the bed, retrieved the towel and bowl of cold water he’d put there before coming in. He sat on the bed beside Peter and gently washed all the cum off his chest, off his dick, all the fluid on his inner thighs. He even cleaned Peter’s foot off, reluctantly, earning him a giggle.

He cleaned himself off a bit too, then ran the towel and bowl to the bathroom, coming back and sitting beside Peter, offering his hand when Peter started sniffing. “You okay now?”

Peter sniffed the back of Isaac’s hand, settling down, eyes shut. “Yeah.” He lifted his own hand, and Isaac took it and scented his wrist, giving a kiss as he did.

“You want me to go?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Isaac told him quietly. He understood why he couldn’t stay, he always did. “You going to be all right on your own?”

Another nod. “Don’t worry about me. Thomas is going to come over later. We’re going to watch _Serendipity_ and complain about you.”

Isaac smiled, patted Peter’s hair down. “Okay. Call if you need me to come back.”

“Don’t want to bug you.”

“Call if you need me to come back,” Isaac repeated.

A chuckle. “Okay.”

“That’s better.” Isaac stood up, cast around for his clothes. His pants were by the bed, which was convenient, and after he’d slid them on, he picked up his t-shirt. “You want this?”

Peter cracked open an eye, nodded. Isaac set it down on the nightstand and Peter snatched it, cuddling it to his chest and sniffing it. “Thank you.”

“Always, Peter,” Isaac reminded him, stealing one of Peter’s shirts as Peter put his on and nestled back, pulling some of his pillows and blankets closer. Isaac gave him a kiss on the forehead before turning to leave, so that hormones wouldn’t make one of them do something stupid. “Always.”


	41. Herny/Sam, Dirty Talk (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more Henry and Sam stuff.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/30/23-for-henry-and-sam/): "23 [Dirty Talk] for Henry and Sam? ;)" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“You like it, don’t you?” Sam asked, cock buried inside Henry. “You like my cock inside you, right where you know it belongs.”

Henry just grunted, not saying anything. He’d been letting Sam do all the talking today. “You don’t care,” Sam panted, ramming into Henry. “You don’t care where. Your mouth, your ass, you just want it in you, don’t you?”

Henry didn’t answer, and Sam rammed him harder. “Don’t you?” he asked, hand on the back of Henry’s neck.

Oh, Sam wanted him to talk now. “Yes,” Henry grunted, nodding even if Sam couldn’t see him. “Yes, I want you inside me, Sam.”

“How badly?”

“Badly,” Henry insisted, grinding his hips back a little, which gave him some friction against the sheets too. Just giving Sam what he wanted was usually for the best. “I want it, I want it more than anything. I want to feel you inside me, you’re so big, you’re so strong, Sam. I want to feel you fill me, feel your cum run down my legs. I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for a week.”

Henry figured that would just make Sam laugh, the obvious over-the-top way he’d said it make him slap Henry and make him be quiet. But instead Sam seemed to like it. “Oh, you’ll feel it,” he snarled, going harder. He wasn’t really that strong, so his hardest thrusts didn’t hurt much now that Henry was used to being violated. “You probably don’t even care that it’s me. You just want cock, don’t you, you stupid little slut? You’ve probably spread your legs for half the castle already, haven’t you?”

“Only you,” Henry told him. “You’re the only one I want. The rest of them are too weak compared to you.” He did not need Sam getting ideas.

A slap on the thigh. “Yeah, right. You’d let a dog fuck you if it showed interest.”

Henry shook his head. “Your cock is enough for me. It’s my addiction, to you. I want to taste you, to feel you, to have you dominate me, hurt me. I want you to cum inside me, your Majesty.”

Sam gave a surprised grunt and did just that, filling Henry with heat. Knowing Sam wouldn’t, Henry reached down and jerked himself off, the last few strokes he needed to do the same, making a mess on the bed that he’d have to sleep in, but whatever.

Sam pulled out as soon as he was done shooting, lay down beside Henry, panting up at the ceiling. He was sweating from head to toe, flushed with heat. “You’re such a whore,” Sam muttered, eyes shut.

“Yeah well, whose idea was that?” Henry asked, rolling over so at least he wasn’t laying in his wet spot. He put his arm around Sam.

“Careful,” Sam warned. “Or I’ll start taking you seriously. There are more than a few guys who’d fuck you if I told them to. Their dogs too.”

Henry rolled his eyes. He was afraid of Sam, he was. But more and more he was seeing how empty his threats really were. “You don’t share.”

“No,” Sam said, moving in closer to Henry. “You’re right, I don’t. You’re mine.”

“That’s right.”

“My dirty little slut.”

“Yep.”

Henry wondered what it said about him that it was so easy to agree to that.


	42. Todd/Sam, Mistaken Identity (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ended up being a lot of Todd requests this time around, and so far none ended up well. Just talk in this one, though.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/30/i-feel-like-59-with-sam-mistaking-todd-for-henry/): "I feel like #59 [Mistaken Identity] with Sam mistaking Todd for Henry would be really funny," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

The minute the door to his Majesty’s rooms opened, Todd went still.

He couldn’t help it, he was afraid. King Sam was terrifying, And he knew better, because he knew that lurking quietly in a room when the king couldn’t see him was a bad idea that was likely to get him hurt. And as much as he said that to himself, it didn’t matter, because the part of his brain that was a mouse wanted the king not to notice him, no matter what. Besides, Henry would be with him, and Henry would see him. So it wasn’t like Todd was hiding.

Henry wasn’t with the king. “Henry,” King Sam said as he came in, making a vague gesture towards where he must have thought Henry was. Todd most have shuffled his feet or something, or maybe the king really did use his magic to know where people were. Either way, he moved his hand, pointing at Todd. “Get on the bed.”

The blood drained out of Todd’s face. He could already feel what was about to happen all through his body, and he wanted to puke.

He wished Derek were here.

“Now,” King Sam continued. “I’m tired, and my shoulders hurt from sitting all day. I want you to fuck me and then I’m going to have a bath, and then bed. Might get you to fuck me again after. I want sex and I don’t want to do any of the goddamn work, so I’m going to lay on my back and you’re going to put yourself to good use, got it/”

Todd’s eyes were widening so much he thought it must be audible. He…hadn’t expected to hear…any of that.

If repeating it wouldn’t be a death sentence, Todd would love to be the one to tell people that King Sam really was bottoming for his bodyguard.

“Now,” the king demanded, snapping his fingers. “Come on. I shouldn’t have to tell you that this is me asking nicely. I’ll even lay on my front if you want, you can pretend you’re a big strong man or whatever you want.”

Todd didn’t move, knowing that if he did he’d be torn apart.

“ _Henry_.”

“I’m sorry!” Todd squeaked, because he felt a buzz run through the room. “I’m sorry, your Majesty. It’s me. Henry’s not here. P-please don’t kill me, I swear I didn’t…”

The silence that fell on the room was the coldest thing Todd had ever felt in his life, and snapped his mouth shut. The furniture shook for a moment and a sensation like a million ants ran over his skin.

King Sam let out a breath, pointed at the door. “Go find Henry and tell him to come here.”

“I’m…”

“Don’t talk.”

Todd swallowed, hurried for the door.

“Todd.”

Todd froze, eyes shut, a whimper escaping his lips.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that silence is a valued trait in servants. If it’s not a trait you have, I will make sure you live a very, very long life. Got it?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Todd said, voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t even hear you. I wasn’t listening. I…”

“Go before I strangle you with your own skin.”

Todd ran.


	43. Frederick, Masturbation (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a kid innocently touching himself.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/30/i-want-to-be-on-team-im-horrible-but-too-can): "I want to be on team "I'm horrible but" too! Can we have 56 [Masturbation] with Frederick? He must overhear Franz and Boey sometimes, right?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

The walls here were thick, but not thick enough. Walls between a master and his servant shouldn’t be too thick, because Frederick needed to be able to hear if Prince Franz suddenly needed help in the night or something, so he wasn’t surprised.

Also, there was a gap in the wall for a spy to slide into, which made it easier for sound to carry through the wall. Boey had helped Frederick close up the pathway, but the gap was still there.

There were times when Frederick wished that the walls were just a bit thicker. He’d take not hearing Prince Franz be assassinated in the night as the trade-off if he could hear less of other things.

He was grateful for everything they’d done for him, but it was easier to forget that when it was Boey’s turn to be on top. Fredrick’s prince was very loud. He was happy that they loved each other and that they were together and everything like that, he really was. He just wished they could do it quietly.

Not even because they kept him awake, but because hearing what they were doing, how much they liked it, all but forced Frederick to picture it and wonder and think and that kept him…up.

Totally undressed, Frederick touched himself with both hands wrapped around, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to think of something that wasn’t what his master was doing in the next room over.

He tried to think of Abby, the girl he liked in the stables, but he felt funny imagining her naked and he ended up picturing Silas instead, who at least he’d seen without his clothes before. Maybe if Silas got better they could do this together.

He was very practical, and he knew that the easiest way to help his excitable tenant downstairs calm down was to let him have what he wanted rather than fighting. It was a fight Frederick had always lost in the past and didn’t expect to start winning.

So he did this, panting and writhing on the bed as he pulled on his dick, muscles clenching as he started to get closer to the good part. He was getting closer and closer, and then Frederick heard his prince give a particularly loud shout and Frederick yelped in surprise as he came earlier than he thought, squirting some fluid onto his belly.

He collapsed backwards, panting and annoyed with himself. He usually tried to catch the mess in some dirty laundry so it didn’t get on him and make him sticky. But whatever, he thought, cleaning himself up with his discarded shirt. He’d have a bath tomorrow anyway, maybe.

Frederick carefully tossed the dirty shirt into the laundry basket so he didn’t have to get up, and he lay back down, staring at the ceiling. They’d quieted down in the other room, but it was probably only temporary. But that was okay. Frederick’s little friend was sated, so he could probably sleep now.

He wondered if someone would make him yell like that someday.


	44. Isaac, Masturbation (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also just masturbation in this one, but with a guest appearance by Isaac's vivid imagination and a historical figure.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/30/you-know-what-i-have-a-request-can-you-do-a/): You know what, I have a request. Can you do a masturbation one with a boy of your choice? Write a nice scene of self love you've been wanting to write," by Gamerkun0525, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

The only thing Isaac didn’t like about history was that sometimes he had to acknowledge that it existed and learn about it.

He was studying in the library for once, because he’d had the brilliant idea that he’d try to read some stuff in books there to help him remember what he’d learned in class. All that really meant was that he’d been sitting in an uncomfortable chair at a small table on the back wall of the second floor for a long time and his butt hurt.

Nobody was around at the moment, which sucked, because it meant he couldn’t go talk to someone as an excuse not to read about Queen Meredith the Trader, who’d brokered a peace treaty between the kingdom of Dolovai and the kingdom of Porean, which didn’t exist anymore but had used to be up north with White Cape as its capital.

That, at least, was legitimately interesting. Isaac had learned that if he’d been born a thousand years ago, he’d have lived in a country called Dallarjon, which had been conquered after its last king had decided to make the whole military go armourless to intimidate their foes, which had resulted in them being slaughtered.

Isaac turned the page, and there was a picture of stupid King Otto who hadn’t understood how war worked.

He was pretty cute, actually. It was just a drawing, but he was about Isaac’s age, maybe a bit older, and Isaac used his imagination a little. He had a dimple on his chin and hair that fell into his eyes and his crown was on crooked, and Isaac knew it was because the book was trying to make him look dumb but he seemed really sweet from the picture. He could picture King Otto fretting about how to win the war his grandmother had started with Dolovai and its allies, deciding to try a last-ditch plan to intimidate them into submission and sending his army out naked.

The book didn’t say they’d gone out naked, but Isaac filled in the blanks.

Holding the book in one hand, Isaac reached into his pants with the other and grabbed his hard-on, picturing King Otto telling his army to disrobe, and them loyally doing as he’d said, stripping to a man and standing at full attention for their liege.

Maybe some of them had practice at that, Isaac thought. Maybe King Otto had needed comforting before then, nice, strong soldiers in his bedroom to make him feel safe in a world at war. A new group of five or six soldiers every night, staying in his bedroom to keep him safe, taking turns staying inside him until he fell asleep.

It was how Isaac would arouse loyalty and fellowship if he were a king.

One soldier in his mouth, one in his ass, Isaac thought as he jerked himself faster. Maybe two if he was flexible enough, which he probably was, he was a king and he’d had lots of practice. He could probably outpace five guys a night at that rate, and he had a lot of soldiers, so probably more. Ten, or even fifteen loyal fighters waiting to serve their king. And not to mention the king’s policy before every battle to motivate his naked soldiers by laying outside and spreading his legs for anyone who…

Isaac came with a quiet grunt, filling the front of his pants. When he was done he sighed, pulled his hand out and wiped it on his pantleg. Study break was over. He wrote “King Otto—naked soldiers” in his notes and looked back at the history book, which had unfortunately left out all the good parts.

Fortunately Isaac had an active imagination.


	45. Owen/Gavin, Hand Jobs and Relaxation (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty lovey-dovey honestly.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/31/i-dont-know-if-this-is-a-cop-out-for-the-kink/): I don't know if this is a cop-out for the kink prompt, but can I just request something happy with Gavin and Owen? Whatever kink you want/is easiest for you to write, but just something wholesome," by Sandofthemountain, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Owen let out a content sound as he sank into the hot bath. He’d never appreciated having his own private bathtub until he’d started spending his days sparring with knights. He looked forward to this every day when he came back.

“Feels good?” Gavin asked, slipping into the water beside him. “Yikes, this is hot, you psycho.”

“Good for the muscles,” Owen told Gavin. Of course it was actually Gavin’s own private bathtub that Owen was just lucky enough to have access to. But that was close enough.

“Not really.”

“Whatever, it feels nice,” Owen sidled up to Gavin, put an arm around him. Gavin rested his head on Owen’s shoulder. “How was your day?”

“Boring. I had to sit and listen to my father hear petitions most of the day. How was yours?”

Owen smiled. “I got beat up fourteen times.”

“So good, then?”

“Yeah.” Owen nodded. “And now I’m here in a bath with my perfect fiancé, so it’s even better. I’d go so far as to say perfect.”

Gavin laughed, moving closer to Owen. “Yeah? You know that perfect means it can’t get any better, right?”

“I do know what perfect means.”

“Hm.” Gavin’s hand was in Owen’s lap now, wrapping around his soft cock. “You don’t think this can get better?”

Ah. “Well, I guess it can, now that you say that.” Owen reached across with his free arm and did the same for Gavin, leaning into him.

“Had a feeling that would be your opinion,” Gavin said, squeezing as Owen got hard. He did the same under Owen’s careful hand. “Missed you today.”

“I missed you today too,” Owen told him, kissing Gavin’s temple.

“Remember when it just used to be the two of us, all the time?” Gavin asked, breathing a little harder, red in the face from the bath and from Owen’s hand.

Owen nodded, suppressing a low sound. “Yeah, I remember. It was…I liked it.”

“I did too.”

“I like every minute I spend with you,” Owen continued. “Every one of them is precious to me.”

Gavin swallowed, giving Owen a good squeeze. “The world is just…brighter when you’re around,” he panted, breath stuttering.

“I love you,” Owen whispered.

“I love you too,” Gavin whispered back.

They came together, a quiet rush of panting, water sloshing, leaning into each other. They sat there beside each other for a time, just breathing. And Owen kissed Gavin on the mouth. “You were right,” he said. “It could get better.”

“Now it can’t,” Gavin smiled up at him. “Now it’s perfect.”

Owen gave Gavin another kiss. “All it needed to be perfect was you.”

“And you.”

“Both of us, then. Together.”


	46. Nate/Pax, Body Worship (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right what it says on the tin. Pax's self-esteem issues tend to encourage Nate to do stuff like this.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/01/can-we-please-get-pax-and-nate-body-worship/): "Can we please get Pax and Nate body worship they're good boys," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Nate started with Pax’s hands.

He held one hand, kissed the individual fingers, the back of it, the palm. “I love these,” he whispered, moving over to the other hand and doing the same. “I love how fast and nimble they are, and how they move when you talk.”

With Pax squirming a little underneath him, he moved up to the forearms. “I love your arms,” Nate said, kissing his way up one, down the other. “I love how strong they are. Up here too,” he added, moving up to the higher part of the arm, above the elbow. “So strong, so thick.”

“And here, I love these,” Nate continued, kissing along Pax’s shoulders. “Always carrying the weight of the world on them. And this.” He kissed Pax’s neck, his windpipe. “Important, helps me hear your voice.”

“Nate,” Pax whispered, but Nate just smiled up at him, and moved down to Pax’s chest. “I love this,” he said, kissing across it, up and down, each nipple. “Broad and thick.” Pax was going to be a barrel when he was older, but Nate didn’t say that and moved down to his belly. “And this, nice and soft.”

“Nate,” Pax grumbled.

“It’s a good thing,” Nate said, giving Pax a kiss on his bellybutton and squeezing the extra flesh a bit. “I like that parts of you are soft.”

Pax’s thighs were soft too, and Nate squeezed one, than the other, still jerking Pax off as he kissed his way down. “I love these,” he said. “Look how powerful they are. You could probably kill someone with these. And then…” He moved down, kissing Pax’s shins one at a time. “You swam back to me with these. These legs carried you all the way back to me, Pax. I love them for that.”

Pax stifled something that might have been a laugh. “Other parts of me helped.”

“And I love all of them. Feet included,” Nate said, kissing those, and giving one a lick that had Pax giggling. Then he moved back up. “Oh, I missed a part.”

“I…noticed,” Pax muttered, still squirming a bit.

Nate kissed Pax’s balls, pulled up tight. “Love this part,” he said, “and this one.” He kissed up the shaft, around his hand, and got to the top. “And this one too.” Nate slid his hand down, took Pax into his mouth, sucked.

He only had to do that for a few seconds. All this time jerking Pax off had gotten him close, and pretty quickly he was shooting into Nate’s mouth with a strangled cry.

Nate swallowed it all with a smile, pulled off. “Definitely love this part. Easily my second favourite part of you.”

“S-second favourite?”

Nate nodded, and crawled up Pax’s body. He kissed Pax’s forehead. “Love your big brain,” he said, breathing lightly on Pax’s face. “Love your beautiful eyes,” he said, kissing those too. “Your cute little nose, your happy cheeks, your sticking out ears.” Every part of Pax got a kiss.

Then he kissed Pax on the lips. “But this is my favourite part.”

“Really?” Pax whispered.

“Really,” Nate said, nodding. “It’s why I fell in love with you.”

“Nate…” Pax was bright red from all this, and Nate liked him that way.

Nate just kissed him again, determined to keep going until Pax was convinced.


	47. Theodore/Pax, Wet Dream (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously crack, but hey, it's a dream. Could have happened. Bear in mind that Theodore's a slave owner and a child molester, so his sex dreams will include those things.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/01/100-perhaps-theodore-having-a-ahem-smutty/): "#100 [Wet Dream] perhaps Theodore having a - Ahem - smutty dream about Pax" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

_“I saw you looking at me,” Pascal said, smiling at Theodore from the window, where he was crouched._

_Theodore was sitting, alone in his big bed, waiting. “I saw the way you looked back,” he said._

_Pascal cocked a grin, slid into the room. By the time he got to the bed he’d lost his shirt, leaving himself in just his tight pants as he crawled over to Theodore. He moved with a fluid grace that Theodore envied. “You want this, right?” Pascal asked, the red stone flickering in his fingers._

_“I do.” Theodore watched it move between his fingers, disappearing sometimes. He was very skilled._

_“Hm.” Pascal grinned again, climbed on top of Theodore, straddled him. And he put the stone in his mouth. “Come get it.”_

_Theodore did, leaning in to kiss Pascal deeply, arms going around the young man, enjoying his weight on him. There was no stone in his mouth, but Theodore hardly cared about that when he had such a wonderful replacement._

_They fell back onto the bed, Pascal on top of Theodore, hands all over each other. Theodore was hard and aching when Pascal let him go, smiled down at him. “Do you like me?”_

_Theodore smiled. “You’re a little old for me.” He wasn’t sure why he said that when he wanted to say yes._

_A nod. “You’re a little young for me.” Pascal stroked his face. “But we’ll make do.”_

_Confused, Theodore looked down at himself, saw a boy instead of a man. A boy’s body, one he hadn’t had in a long time._

_He looked back up at Pascal, saw him smiling there. A collar was in his hand._

_He reached down, clipped the collar around Theodore’s neck. It hung there, warm and comfortable, making Theodore feel like he was safe. “There we go, that’s better. Come on, Theo, let’s make you happy.”_

_Theodore nodded, wanting more than anything for that to happen, and Pascal was inside him, thrusting, pushing, warmth spreading through Theodore as he was carried off, filled and made whole and…_

_“Cum for me, Theo?”_

Theodore woke up with a start and a wet spot on the bedsheets. That had been…unusual.

Fortunately he didn’t seem to have woken up Daniel, who had rolled away from him in the night again. Shaking his head, Theodore moved away from the wet spot, took Daniel into his arms and closed his eyes. He barely even remembered the dream.


	48. Ron/Owen, Underage (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two young kids learning what boners do. They're cousins, but they don't touch each other and it's all innocent.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/01/can-we-have-95-with-owen-and-ron-ive-been/): "Can we have 95 with Owen and Ron? I've been wondering ever since Ron brought it up XD," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“Come on, come on!”

“Okay, I’m coming, God.” Ron followed after Owen at the fastest pace he could muster, which was faster than he’d like because Owen was pulling on his wrist and dragging him through the woods. It was all Ron could do to stay on his feet. “This better be good, Owen!”

Owen dragging him into the woods always ended with one or both of them getting in trouble.

“It’s awesome, I promise!” Owen said, though last time he’d said that it had been an angry cat that had chased them.

Still, Ron went along with it, letting Owen drag him all the way to the big standing stones before going left and taking them to the riverbank, where the water gurgled. “Okay!” Owen declared, looking around and nodding. “Here.”

“What’s here?” Ron looked around. They didn’t come here a lot, because it was far away and also there was nothing here that wasn’t everywhere else.

“We are,” Owen said, grinning like an idiot. He always grinned like an idiot, it was just his face.

Owen started taking off his shirt.

“Um. Are we swimming?” Ron thought that was a bad idea. They should swim closer to the village.

“Nope. Well, maybe later. Come on, take off your clothes!”

“But…” Ron was already taking off his shirt too. “Why?”

“Because I said so, dummy,” Owen was done stripping like that, and stood there naked, waiting for Ron to finish.

Ron just sighed and did as Owen told him, because Owen wasn’t going to tell him anything until Ron did what he wanted. His cousin was a little demanding. So he took the rest of his clothes off, kicked them aside to join Owen’s in a pile, and stood there. “Now what?”

“Now I’ll show you what I found out. Sit down.” Owen sat as well, and he started tugging on his dick.

“What…are you doing?” Ron asked, shivering a little as his bottom hit the damp ground.

“You know how sometimes it gets hard? I found of something cool you can do with it. Come on, make yours hard too, I’ll show you.”

Ron had a bad feeling about this, but he tugged on his own dick too until he was hard like Owen, who was sitting there patiently waiting for him. When he was ready, Owen grinned that grin again. “Okay, do what I do.”

“Okay.”

Owen just did the same thing he’d been doing before, tugging on his dick, hand wrapped around it in a fist. Frowning, Ron did the same. He trusted Owen, even if Owen was an idiot. “What are we doing?”

“Just keep doing it. Trust me, it’s awesome in a minute.”

Ron kept doing what he was doing, watching Owen with his frown in place. After a good minute or so, he started to feel a bit funny, then a lot funny, and he took his hand off his dick.

“No, no, no, keep going,” Owen panted, flushed in the face. “Keep going, Ron. Trust me.”

“But it’s weird.”

“I know, but _trust me_ ,” Owen said, emphasizing that part this time. His hand didn’t stop the whole time.

Ron sighed, put his hand back on his sensitive dick and kept moving it, trying to ignore the funny feeling as he went.

Suddenly Owen made a weird noise, doubled over a little, and lay down on the ground. “Owen!” Ron asked, getting closer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” Owen was smiling differently now, like he’d just had a good supper. “Keep doing it, Ron, come on…”

Ron watched Owen, who seemed happy and wasn’t touching himself anymore. Maybe that meant if he kept doing it, he’d be…

Ron did as Owen told him, and sure enough, a minute later he got hit by something that seized him in his belly, knocked him on his back and left him not breathing for a second while it ran through him. It was the best thing he’d ever felt.

“Oh…” Ron said, when it was over, staring up at the sky. “Wow.”

“Yeah?” Owen appeared over him, grinning. “Told you.”

Ron’s dick was tingling. “You were right,” Ron said, even though he hated saying that. “It was awesome.”

“Let’s go swimming for a bit and then we can do it again!” Owen said, pulling Ron to his feet and dragging him to the water. “Come on!”

Like always, Ron went where Owen pulled him.


	49. Simon/Daniel, Handjob (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One sad slave boy helping another one sleep.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/01/i-want-daniel-and-simon-to-have-something-nice/): "I want Daniel and Simon to have something nice. Could you write them having nice handjobs or something?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Simon wasn’t a baby. He’d never needed someone to sleep with, not since he’d been little.

But since he’d been…sold, and bought, and brought here, to this house, to this person, Simon had been having trouble sleeping. And he’d found that sleeping with Daniel helped, a little.

Daniel was nice. Hugh and Marcus had warned Simon that he might not be, but he really was. He was like a big brother, or at least like what Simon thought a big brother should be. He treated Simon the way that Simon hoped he treated his own sister.

He wasn’t Simon’s brother, but having him here made it easier. Easier to live, easier to know this was happening for a good reason. Easier to be brave. Easier to sleep.

Especially to sleep. Daniel slept a lot, so Simon wasn’t ever worried that he’d wake up and find Daniel not there. It was comforting. It was nice.

Until Simon had a really weird dream about swimming in the ocean and a mermaid he met there, and woke up with a boner, curled up against Daniel’s leg.

Swallowing, Simon carefully rolled over, hoping he couldn’t wake Daniel up. That would be too embarrassing. He’d never be able to look Daniel in the eye again.

Fortunately he pulled it off, and he let out a relieved breath.

Of course, he couldn’t do anything about this. Simon couldn’t touch himself in a room with five other people in it. Maybe if he were at home, if they were all his friends, he would be more brave. But not here, he couldn’t do it. There was no privacy in this room at all.

So he just suffered through it, laying there and trying to go back to sleep, not able to get comfortable, fidgeting as a result.

After a while, Daniel rolled over, put his arm around Simon’s midsection, held him in place. “Settle down,” he muttered sleepily. “You’re okay.”

“Sorry…” Simon whispered, going still. He was going to die.

“Mm.” Daniel shifted, his arm moving a bit lower. It hit the tip of Simon’s boner and stopped. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s…sorry.” Daniel had just apologized to him, but it was Simon’s fault.

“Normal thing,” Daniel said, sounding more awake now. “You want to do something with it? I can let you go?”

“No, I’ll…I’ll be okay.”

Daniel sighed. “You can’t sleep with it, can you? That’s why you’re moving so much.”

Daniel was really smart. Simon had already noticed that a few times, but there it was again. Or maybe he just knew what being a boy was like. “I’m trying not to, I just…”

“Yeah,” Daniel whispered. “Do you want me to help?”

Simon tensed a little, but…he did. “Please?” He could be brave if Daniel did it for him. And Simon wasn’t a total stranger to friends helping each other out. He’d done this once or twice with his buddies at home.

“Sure,” Daniel said. He reached down a little, found Simon’s dick and started to stroke it without hesitation. “Let me know if you don’t like it.”

“I will.” Simon liked it, a lot. He was having to bite his tongue to keep quiet. Daniel stroked him quickly, not too hard but enough to show that he wasn’t taking his time. He probably wanted to go back to sleep, Simon figured. He was pressed up against Simon, and he wasn’t even hard.

“D-do you want me to do you too?”

Daniel shook his head behind Simon. “I’m okay. Next time, okay?”

“Y-yeah…” Simon swallowed, then gulped in a breath. “I’m going to…I’m…”

It was pretty obvious what he was going to do, and Simon spasmed as it hit him, a fire that seared through his body and made him whimper out loud as he came.

When he was done, Daniel carefully let him go, wiped his hand on the blanket and wrapped his arm around Simon’s midsection again. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Simon confirmed, his erection abating. Nobody else had even woken up. “Thank you.”

“Just ask if you need me to do it again, okay?” Daniel asked. “I know you’re not afraid.”

Simon nodded, even though he was afraid of a lot of things. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Simon,” Daniel said, voice already drifting.

It took Simon a few extra minutes, but he fell asleep again too, feeling safe. He dreamt normal dreams this time.


	50. Nicholas/Isaac, First Time (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing objectionable here, just a blowjob.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/can-you-do-isaac-and-nicholass-first-time-with/): "Can you do Isaac and Nicholas’s first time with each other in the modern AU?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“You’re such a pain in the ass, and not…”

“And not even in the way that you like,” Nicholas interrupted, rolling his eyes. “I know. Your jokes are as predictable as the rest of you.”

Isaac bristled. “At least I have a sense of humour,” he grumbled.

Nicholas didn’t even remember what they were arguing about anymore. Probably the same thing they’d been arguing about since they’d met. At this point, arguing with Isaac was just what their relationship was. He actually kind of looked forward to it.

“Just because I don’t joke about my dick every ten minutes don’t mean I don’t have a sense of humour,” Nicholas told Isaac. He was so single-minded.

“Maybe, but if you did something with your dick other than ignore it you’d be a lot less uptight,” Isaac thought back.

“Oh, you think that, do you?” Nicholas asked, not sure why.

“Yeah, I know that. Experience.”

“Prove it.”

Hold on. What had Nicholas just said? He’d been going with the flow of the argument, not really thinking his comments through. Maybe letting something other than his brain talk.

Oh, God, he was spending too much time with Isaac.

And part of Nicholas thought suddenly that might no be a bad thing. The part of him that was receiving a lot of blood flow suddenly.

Isaac stopped short, looked at him. “Careful,” he warned. “I’ll take you seriously.”

Nicholas took a breath, seeing the opportunity Isaac was offering him to back away. “Maybe you should.”

Isaac smirked, grabbed Nicholas’s tie and dragged him around the corner of the nearest building, pushing him against a wall. “Alright, then.”

Nicholas looked around, nervous about being outside, but he also kind of liked being outside and as much as he and Isaac didn’t always see eye-to-eye, he knew that Isaac knew a lot about being safe, so it was probably fine.

That was definitely not Nicholas’s dick talking, no sir.

Isaac grabbed him through his pants, obviously liking what he found there. “Little distracted, Nikky?”

“Just…do it,” Nicholas said, trying not to blush. It wasn’t a big deal, he told himself. People did this all the time. And he’d decided a long time ago that he wanted his first time to be with someone who knew what they were doing.

“Bossy,” Isaac touched his nose. But he dropped to his knees, undoing Nicholas’s belt and fishing his dick out of his underwear once the zipper was open on his pants. “You’re lucky I’ve been wanting a taste of this, or I’d leave you hanging.”

Nicholas looked down at Isaac, shuddering a little already at the feeling of Isaac’s hand on him, and wondered why he’d never done this before.

Another smile, and Isaac fished into his pocket, came out with a condom that he opened with his teeth. Nicholas watched in fascination and Isaac pinched the tip, put it against his dick and slid it on, covering Nicholas in an instant. “There, now you’re all dressed for the occasion. Second thoughts?”

“Nope,” Nicholas insisted, swallowing.

“Okay.” Isaac pressed Nicholas’s hips against the building, and he put his mouth over Nicholas’s dick, and it was amazing, and Nicholas was going to die.

He was pretty sure of that. This was what dying felt like. It was warm and hard and brilliant and it smelled like sweat. Nicholas had his hands in Isaac’s hair, and Isaac was sucking hard on him, hands keeping Nicholas in place and also standing up, which his knees badly wanted not to be. They were outside, Nicholas remembered, trying to be quiet, but it was hard, it was really, really hard…

Nicholas swallowed out a cry as he came, filling the condom in Isaac’s mouth, bending over as he tried to fall or implode, he wasn’t sure. That went on for a decade or so, and when it was done, Nicholas slumped, panting, eyes closed, pointed at the sky.

Isaac pulled off him, stood up. He patted on Nicholas’s shoulder. “Feeling less uptight?”

Nicholas opened his eyes, trying to breathe normally. “No,” he panted. “Wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

Isaac snorted. “So you don’t want to do it again?”

“I didn’t say _that_.” Honestly, there was no reason for Isaac to overreact. Nicholas wanted to do it again all the time, though he’d settle for eight times a day.

“I thought so.” Isaac smiled, and he reached down, grabbed Nicholas’s dick. The condom was slid off, and Nicholas watched Isaac tie it. Made sense. “You want it again, come ask me politely,” he said, grabbing Nicholas’s hand, depositing the condom in it, and kissing him on the cheek. “Get rid of that, will you?”

And Isaac sauntered off, swaying his hips a little in a way that Nicholas couldn’t help but watch, leaving Nicholas leaning against a wall, out of breath, half-soft dick in the air, holding a used condom.

Something else to look forward to along with their arguments.


	51. Oliver/Yancy, Schoolboy/Teacher Kink (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously very crack-ish, and involving a teacher/student dynamic. I picture it as a role play, but that is also their actual relationship (minus the sex) in the story, so read it how you will.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/i-do-believe-that-number-78-with-yancy-and-oliver/): "I do believe that number 78 with Yancy and Oliver would be hilarious. Alas, I let you be the judge of that. xD," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Oliver’s knock was immediately answered. “Come on,” the gruff voice of his teacher called out.

Confident, smiling, Oliver opened the door, shut it behind him. “Sir?”

“Yes, Oliver,” Yancy said, looking up from his work. He nodded at the chair in front of his desk, which Oliver sat in. He didn’t seem to notice that Oliver had dressed for him, in his tightest shirt and shortest shorts, no smallclothes. “What can I do for you, lad?”

Oliver crossed his legs, leaned forward with a bit of a pout on his face. “I didn’t do very well on the last test, professor. I was wondering if there was…anything I could do to make up the points? Maybe an…oral exam?”

“Hm…” Yancy gave Oliver that same gruff expression he always did, and waved a hand. “Come here.”

Oliver hopped up, grinning from ear to ear as he made his way around Yancy’s desk, moving in between the desk and his professor, preparing to slide down in between Yancy’s legs like he always did.

Yancy grabbed his arm, kept him standing. “No.”

“I’m…sir?”

Yancy smiled. He stood up from his chair, face an inch from Oliver’s. “I said no, lad. I’m tired of you coming in here and thinking you can just suck your way out not studying for my class. It’s disrespectful and I won’t tolerate it anymore.”

Oliver stared, wide-eyed at Yancy. “Sir…I…”

Yancy smiled. “If you want a better grade, you’ll have to work for it from now on. Turn around and pull down those obscene little shorts of yours.”

“Yes, professor,” Oliver said, hastening to do as he was told. He found his face burning when he exposed his ass to his teacher, who stroked it.

“No smallclothes, hm? Makes things easier.” There was silence for a moment.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” Oliver asked, nerves showing. Maybe Yancy was going to spank him. Oliver was already hard thinking about it.

In answer, a wet finger prodded Oliver’s hole suddenly, followed by another, and both pushed in right away. Oliver groaned in discomfort as he was penetrated. “I’m going to show you how easy you’ve been having it until now,” Yancy told him, sounding distracted. “This is what it takes to get a better mark in my class. If you expect that better mark, the only thing I want to hear you say until I’m finished is ‘yes, professor,’ understand?”

“Y-yes, professor,” Oliver repeated, nodding.

“Good lad.” Yancy added another finger and kept going with those for a minute before pulling them out just as Oliver had gotten used to the sensation. Then something else pressed against his hole. “Ready?”

“Yes, professor.” Oliver may not have planned this, but he definitely wasn’t complaining about the direction it was taking.

Yancy pushed inside, and Oliver was filled by his teacher, whinging as he was. “Do you like that?” Yancy asked when he was about halfway in, leaning into Oliver to whisper in his ear.

“Yes, professor,” Oliver recited, nodding. He did like it. It made him feel naughty, doing this with his teacher.

Yancy started pushing hard, pulling out and thrusting in, hands on Oliver’s hips to keep him in place. “Must easier to have just studied,” he said as he moved.

Oliver didn’t agree. He didn’t say anything.

“Hm,” Yancy snorted. “I had a feeling you’d be of that opinion, lad. You always were the contrary sort.”

“Yes, professor,” Oliver agreed. He did like to cause trouble for his teachers.

Yancy fell quiet again, the room filled with grunts and the creak of the desk and the slap of flesh, until a moment later when Yancy gripped him tightly. “Hold still, Oliver.”

“Yes, professor…” Oliver knew what was coming, and sure enough, with a groan, his teacher came inside him, shooting hot seed into his hole. Oliver was about to cum too, he was just one movement, one twitch away and he’d…

Yancy pulled out, patting Oliver on the back. “You liked that?”

“Y-yes, professor…” Oliver swallowed. He’d chance it. “But…”

“But?” Yancy looked down. “Ah. You wanted to climax as well, did you?”

“Yes, professor. Please?”

Yancy smiled. “From now on, you’ll come here two times a day for tutoring. I’m afraid it’s the only way you’ll pass the class. Understand?” Oliver heard a drawer open.

“Yes, professor, I understand,” Oliver said, mind going crazy trying to figure out what was happening, but he didn’t need to be told to know not to turn around. This, two times a day? Oliver could handle that. He might even request extra sessions. As long as he got to cum.

A moment later something was stuck inside him, polished wood, felt like. “Can’t have you leaking. If you’d like an orgasm of your own, sit down and let’s talk about the Unification Treaties. Convince me you’ve been paying attention in my class, and you’ll enjoy the next time a lot more.”

Oliver’s eyes went wide. He didn’t remember anything about the Unification Treaties. He’d been doodling during that lecture. Those four lectures. But he bit his lip, pulled up his too-tight shorts and moved back to the visitor’s chair, gingerly sitting down and preparing for the worst hour of his life. “Yes, professor.”


	52. Sully/Cal/Joey, Spitroasting (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some good old spitroasting between people who aren't dating.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/could-we-get-91-with-joey-and-cal-working-out/): "Could we get 91 [Spitroasting] with Joey and Cal working out their stress on Sully (consentually!)?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Sully reminded himself that he’d asked for this. Well, he hadn’t suggested it, but he’d said yes. It wasn’t a bad idea, they all had their stress to work out.

He kind of thought that maybe Joey could have put a warning on his pants before taking them off, because Sully might have agreed a little more slowly if he’d seen the size of that thing before agreeing to put it in his mouth.

At least Cal, lining up against Sully’s asshole, was a normal size.

“You ready?” Cal asked from behind.

Sully snorted, projecting confidence. “Yeah, yeah. Just do it.” He opened his mouth, inviting Joey to slide his dick in there. He was a very powerful and experienced demon. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by some stupid dragon whose body hadn’t figured out proportions.

Joey took his invitation, sliding his head past Sully’s lips and beyond, feeding Sully more and more of himself. Behind him Cal pushed in much more quickly, and his hips were smacking against Sully’s before Joey had even hit the halfway mark.

“Doing a good job,” Cal grunted, as he started thrusting. Sully tried to focus on that, but he couldn’t take his attention away from his mouth. “Got experience, Sully?”

Sully so badly wanted to tell Cal to shut up.

Joey stopped him from doing that, pushing more and more in until he hit the back of Sully’s throat. Sully tried to relax but couldn’t, a least not right away. “That’s okay,” Joey whispered, patting Sully’s head. “You took a lot of it.”

Sully was going to kill him. Joey was going to get murdered in his sleep, and that patronizing tone was the reason why.

Joey pulled back and started to thrust in, gently so as not to choke Sully, finding a rhythm with Cal after a minute. The two of them rocked him back and forth as they fucked each end of him, Cal holding Sully’s hips and Joey his head. Sully focused on trying to relax his everything, but especially his throat, to make this easier for all of them.

He managed it all at once and he was just as surprised as Joey when with one thrust, Joey slid all the way into his throat, stopping when his balls hit Sully’s chin. Sully allowed himself a moment of triumph at Joey’s surprised sound.

But then Joey picked up his thrusts again, fucking Sully’s throat now, and some signal passed between the two of them to go faster, harder, to really go to town on Sully in a way that had him focusing very hard on breathing through his nose.

As he got used to that, though, Sully realized that his focus on the front had distracted him from something else. Cal was _really good_ at whatever he was doing back there, and as soon as he realized that, Sully went tense, starting to feel himself getting close to an orgasm. Cal noticed and started going faster, somehow aiming his thrusts right at Sully’s prostate, and a second later Sully was moaning around Joey as he came, shooting onto the ground. The moaning pushed Joey over the edge too, and his pulled Sully’s hair and rammed all the way in, crying out as he painted Sully’s throat white.

It wasn’t until Sully was nearly recovered that Cal came without any warning, filling Sully’s ass with a whimper. By the time he was done, Joey was moving in Sully’s mouth again, gently, but obviously considering.

“Hey,” Cal said, patting Sully’s ass. “You want to switch?”

Joey stopped moving. “S-sure.”

_Oh, fuck._ Sully thought as they both pulled out, leaving him shaky for a second, and switched positions.

With Joey’s hands on his hips, Sully looked up at Cal, who was cleaning his cock off on one of their discarded shirts. “Having fun?”

Sully nodded. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, though he was a little focused on the dragon dick pressed against his asshole.

“Good,” Cal said, lifting Sully’s chin and holding out his dick, still hard as morning. “Because I think we’ve both got a few more loads in us. Open up.”


	53. Todd/Sam, Daddy Kink (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of poor Todd being on the receiving end of Sam's everything. It's a theme.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/daddy-kink-for-todd-and-sam-sadly-i-enjoy-their/): "Daddy kink for Todd and Sam? Sadly I enjoy their interactions and this one seems. Interesting," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Todd had been hurt enough times that when King Sam said “Get over here,” Todd just did as he was told.

He was going to be hurt either way, especially since Henry wasn’t here to intervene, and so if he complied, Todd had learned that he might be hurt a little less if nothing else. Resisting had never gotten him anything other than broken bones.

So Todd came and stood in front of King Sam, looking at the ground even though the king wouldn’t know the difference. “Yes, your Majesty?”

King Sam smacked him across the face. “You sound like an idiot quivering like that. I haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, your Majesty,” Todd said, trying not to whimper. The slap hadn’t hurt that much, but his cheek stung.

Another smack. Todd wished Henry were here. He liked Henry, Henry was nice. Todd wished King Sam were hurting Henry instead of him. “I’m going to give you a reason to cry, don’t worry. Strip and get on the bed, now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Todd whispered, shaking hands coming up to lift his shirt over his head, then unlacing his pants when he was done. He worked as quickly as he could, knowing the king was impatient, and he climbed naked onto the king’s bed. King Sam was also undressing haphazardly, and he pushed Todd onto his stomach and climbed on top of him. He wasn’t that much older than Todd, but he seemed so much bigger.

“God, you’re such a baby,” King Sam growled, hand on the back of Todd’s neck. Todd tried not to make a noise. “Your parents must have been so disappointed in you.”

Todd didn’t mean to, he shouldn’t have made that sound. But he made it, that small cry as he remembered, remembered the old Sorcerer King tearing his mom and dad to pieces in front of him, all the blood raining down, splattering him. They’d always told him he was the light of their lives, and when they’d died, the light had gone out of Todd’s, too.

“Ah,” King Sam said, shifting behind Todd, two wet fingers forcing their way inside Todd roughly, the king’s dick lined up to follow them. “Do you miss your parents, Todd?”

“I…” Todd closed his mouth, tried to pretend this didn’t already hurt.

The hand on his neck pressed, and Todd felt himself start to burn. “I asked you a question. Do you wish mommy and daddy were still here?”

Eyes squeezed shut, Todd swallowed a cry. “Yes…”

“You would just watch me hurt them instead of you,” the king said, and Todd could hear him smirking, and the worst part was that he knew King Sam was right. “Fine, then. How about we play a game of pretend, to make you feel better?” The king pulled his fingers out and leaned down to speak in Todd’s ear. “Until I’m done with you, I’ll be your daddy, got it?”

Todd felt himself recoil. “Y-your Majesty, I…”

“Is that how you talk to your father, Todd?”

Todd shook his head, wishing that burning on the back of his neck would stop. “I…no, daddy.”

It stopped. “That’s better.” And the king thrust right into Todd, pain searing through Todd’s body. He bit his lip, trying not to scream, but still ended up making a lot of noise

“Don’t worry, son,” King Sam said, not giving Todd time to adjust to anything before he started thrusting in and out. “I can tell what a stupid slut you’re growing up to be. Daddy’s going to take care of you the way you want him too.”

Todd didn’t, he didn’t want this, but that didn’t matter and King Sam kept thrusting into him, getting faster and faster. The pain started to dull but not disappear, and Todd could feel tears running down his face. “You like this?” King Sam asked, hand tightening a little on the back of Todd’s neck.

Todd nodded, knowing what he had to do to get out of this with the least amount of pain. “Yes, daddy.”

“I knew it. You want daddy to keep going?” King Sam grunted.

“Y-yes,” Todd said, swallowing bile. His head was starting to feel foggy. “Yes, keep going, daddy.”

“For how long, son?”

“For as long as you want.”

“Good boy,” King Sam said, patting Todd’s shoulder and picking up his speed. Todd cried out again, wishing that it would just stop hurting, wishing that he’d brought Derek with him today.

“You’re better at this than your mother, boy,” King Sam told him. “You were born to take daddy’s cock, you know that?”

“Y-yes…daddy…” Todd didn’t know what was happening. It was because he was all foggy, or something. But the king’s voice was even starting to sound like his dad’s. He was starting to imagine that this really was his dad doing this, and not the king.

“Good, because you’re going to be doing a lot of it. A lot of…” The king stopped talking, and with a loud grunt, he pressed Todd down hard into the bed and came inside him, dick throbbing as he filled Todd up.

And as he did that, Todd came too, letting out a cry of surprise as he shot onto the blankets. He hadn’t even noticed he was hard. How? He…he hadn’t like that. No. No, he hadn’t like that, he couldn’t, he…

“Liked that, did you, Todd?”

Todd shook his head because he knew the king couldn’t see it. “Yes, daddy…” he sobbed.

Todd hated himself for saying it, he hated the king for doing it. He hated Henry and Derek for not being here. He hated his parents for not being here. He hated everything.

“Good.” King Sam gave Todd a smack on the thigh. He sounded gleeful, and he was still buried inside Todd. “Because daddy’s not done with you yet.”


	54. Henry/Sam, Jealousy (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less nsfw than most of the others, but still Sam and Henry stuff.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/02/how-would-50-work-with-sam-and-henry/): "How would #50 [Jealousy] work with Sam and Henry?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Henry didn’t like Sam. Everyone, including Sam, knew that. It wasn’t a secret.

But he also had to keep other people away from Sam, or rather keep Sam away from other people, and the way to do that was to maintain Sam’s interest, to keep Sam thinking about him rather than anyone else. To make sure Sam hurt him and not some random castle servants.

Doing that for as long as he had was starting to confuse Henry from time to time. He found himself forgetting that he didn’t actually want Sam’s attention, he just wanted it off other people. They were remarkably similar desires that overlapped too often for his liking.

Part of it, Henry thought, was because a side effect of his keeping Sam’s attention so long meant that everyone knew he was the Sorcerer King’s favourite and kept away accordingly. It had only take one maid thrown through a window and one guard with his skull cracked open for people to realize that if the king decided someone was too close to his favourite, he got jealous and that person died.

At first Henry had assumed that wasn’t it at all. That Sam had just wanted him not to have friends as part of the game he was playing with Henry. But more and more he’d started to wonder if maybe Sam really did get jealous. It wasn’t as though he had anyone to talk to but Henry anyway.

Henry stood there, watching Sam’s expression as he calmed down, the body of a servant Henry had been talking too against one wall, and he realized that was almost definitely it. Sam didn’t look happy or anything. “Sam?” Henry asked.

Sam turned away, stalked back to his rooms. “Henry.”

“You can’t kill everyone I talk to.”

“Yes, I can,” Sam sneered as Henry followed him. “He was hitting on you.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Yes, he was. I’m just removing that problem before I walk in and find you with his cock buried inside you.”

Henry thought about that for a second, considering carefully what to say. “You think a lot about that, don’t you? Other people fucking me?”

“Of course not.”

Sam always said that when he was lying. It was adorably transparent.

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t share.”

“Okay.” Henry rolled his eyes, didn’t say anything else as they made their way back to the rooms. He felt bad for the servant, but at least Sam hadn’t tortured him.

Todd was there when they got back to the room, setting out dishes for them to eat supper. As he usually did, Henry jerked his head to the door to get rid of him before Sam hurt him.

But Sam grabbed Todd’s arm before he could. “On the bed.”

“I…”

“No,” Henry said, put his hand on Sam’s wrist Sam smiled. “Sam.”

“Henry,” Sam said. “I’ve decided to spare you today and play with Todd instead.”

Something surged inside Henry, and he pulled Sam away from Todd. He hated watching Sam rape Todd. Not just because it was hurting Todd, because Todd had never done anything wrong. “Get out, Todd,” Henry said, pulling Sam away, ignoring the buzzing that crawled up his arm as he did.

Todd didn’t move, but Sam didn’t pull away from Henry either. “Now who’s jealous?”

That…wasn’t what it was. Henry wasn’t jealous. He was just trying to protect Todd. He was just trying to keep Sam away from Todd. From everyone. To keep Sam to himself, contained where he couldn’t…

To keep Sam to himself.

“I am.” Henry wasn’t jealous. He pushed Sam on the bed, started taking off Sam’s shirt, waving for Todd to get out. “You’re mine.”

“You’ve got that backwards,” Sam said, reaching up and grabbing Henry through his pants. Henry was hard already.

The door clicked shut. “Maybe,” Henry admitted, slipping his hand into Sam’s pants and stroking his cock to hardness. “But hey, Todd’s gone and you killed the servant I was walking to. Guess that just leaves us with each other, doesn’t it?”

It was better that way.


	55. Theodore/Daniel, I'm Sorry (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more slavery stuff, with much more rough and obvious rape than usual.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/03/ooo-could-you-do-daniel-and-theodore-46-pleassee/): "Ooo, could you do Daniel and Theodore 46 [I'm Sorry] pleassee?" by an anon, based on [ this](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/) prompt list.

\---

It was a mistake, Theodore knew that. He was done with Daniel. The betrayal had killed it, and he had Simon now.

But there he was in his long shirt, watering flowers in the hallway. He’d gone stiff as Theodore walked by, like he always did, and Theodore had ignored him, like he always did.

But he couldn’t help looking over his shoulder, just briefly, at Daniel. At his body. And remembering, remembering why he hadn’t ended it himself.

Theodore took a step back, approached Daniel. Daniel was completely stiff; he knew Theodore was there. He always knew, he paid attention to everything around him. A skill Theodore had once admired and still did, even knowing the why of it. It was hard for him not to be impressed by Daniel even now. Theodore put his hands on Daniel’s hips, lifting the shirt up and exposing his backside. “Hold still,” he said.

Daniel nodded incrementally, but didn’t say anything. His eyes were closed. He’d used to be a better actor, but Theodore supposed that now he wasn’t acting. There was no point for him to pretend he wanted this.

That made something surge within Theodore, the fact that maybe he was seeing the real Daniel for once. Theodore slid three fingers into his mouth and sucked on them, and then penetrated Daniel with the first one, then a second. Daniel let out a quiet breath, shifting a little, but he relaxed and let Theodore do it, even when the third finger went in and stretched him farther.

It must have hurt, or at least stung, and Theodore paused. What was he doing? He was old enough to have his urges in check, but here he was, apparently unable to control himself. Was he really so weak that he couldn’t stop himself from doing this, from raping Daniel in a hallway like an animal?

The issue wasn’t that Theodore couldn’t control himself. He could stop this, walk away right now if he wanted to. But he didn’t want to. Theodore hadn’t decided he was done with Daniel—Daniel had made that decision, and it wasn’t his to make. Daniel was Theodore’s property, and Theodore would do what he wanted with his property.

Theodore pulled his fingers out of Daniel, opened the front of his pants. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m afraid this is likely to hurt.”

Another incremental nod. Theodore wondered if he’d be able to get anything other than that out of Daniel. He’d never been the most responsive in the bedroom, even when he’d been acting.

Fishing his erection out of his pants, Theodore guided himself to Daniel’s entrance, trying to keep himself under control and not give into shaking. Daniel just stood there, compliant, and let him do it. He had the ability to stop Theodore, most certainly. He could break away, run, probably even attack Theodore if he chose to. But he didn’t. Maybe he missed Theodore’s affections and hoped behaving here would help him recover them.

This wasn’t affection. That was gone between them now. This was something else, and as Theodore penetrated Daniel, he decided not to examine too closely what that something else was.

Theodore generally used a lot of lubrication so as not to hurt his slaves, so he was unused to this much difficulty pushing in. But push he did, forcing his way inside, not stopping until he was fully sheathed. Daniel was breathing in shorter bursts now, shoulders tense as he fought to keep himself relaxed inside. He must be hurting, but he gave no sign.

Theodore had missed this, he realized, eyes closed as he paused to get his breath. He’d missed being inside Daniel. Bodies were all the same, or close enough. Doing this same thing with Simon was physically identical to doing it with Daniel, or Marcus or Hugh or Denny or any of the others before them. The same tightness, the same warmth, the same sensations. And yet, he’d missed this. He’d missed doing it with Daniel. Every boy was different, and Theodore had missed the particular flavour that Daniel lent to the encounter.

He’d missed Daniel.

And Daniel was the one who’d taken this away from him.

Theodore started thrusting, faster than he’d meant to, hands on Daniel’s hips to keep him in place as he moved in and out, watching his erection disappear inside Daniel’s entrance. Daniel was gasping for air, but quietly. Theodore was going to get him to make a sound if it killed one of them.

So he picked up his speed, wanting Daniel to remember this, remember that this was the only way he could have Theodore now, remember how gentle and nice it had been before, and compare it to how rough and painful it was now.

He wanted Daniel to know that it was his fault that this was happening.

One particularly hard thrust finally gave Theodore what he was looking for when Daniel opened his mouth, let out an involuntary cry. Theodore surged forward, fucking Daniel with new strength, and got a repeat of that sound, one, two, three more times. And on the third time, Theodore came with a grunt, shooting his seed inside Daniel, holding him in place to ensure it went in as deep as possible.

Theodore stayed there, holding Daniel there, for a long moment while he recovered, trying to breathe normally. Only then did he let go of Daniel, pull out. Daniel’s shirt fell back down, covering his backside, and he started shaking as soon as Theodore’s hands weren’t on him anymore. He was probably hurting.

Theodore had never wanted to hurt Daniel, to hurt any of them. He held his hand out as if to touch Daniel, but he knew it wouldn’t be appreciated. Theodore could see some of his cum running down Daniel’s leg.

So he turned away, tucking himself back into his pants. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“It’s…” Daniel swallowed audibly. “It’s okay, Master. I’m fine.”

And it was back, Daniel’s mask, his even tone. Theodore had managed to crack it for a second there, but Daniel had it back already.

So Theodore put his back on as well, nodded. “Good. Take a rest, Daniel. You seem tired.”

And he walked off, resisting the urge to apologize again.


	56. Todd, Masturbation (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Todd finally gets a break and has some fun alone. Though bear in mind that the noncon context is still implicit throughout.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/03/just-some-masturbation-for-todd-he-deserves-a/): "Just some masturbation for Todd? He deserves a break," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

When he wasn’t busy he’d sit in a cupboard for a while, or his room if Derek was working somewhere, or even just in an empty room behind the door. And he’d pretend he was happy. He’d pretend his parents were alive, that they were all still living together in the town, that the Sorcerer King had never come.

Sometimes he’d pretend other things.

Sometimes he’d pretend that he had a girl who liked him, or maybe a boy. That they’d grow up and get married and have kids like normal people. That they’d have sex like normal people, that it wouldn’t hurt and it would be nice and it would be everything that sex was supposed to be instead of what it was.

Sometimes Todd would get hard during the day, so he’d go to one of his quiet places and he’d pull it out, and he’d pretend he liked sex. That was what he did today, in a small sitting room in the west side of the castle that never got used, he sat behind a chair and stroked himself, pretending that he had a girl to help him with that.

She had nice hair, and pretty eyes and smiled a lot and she told Todd he was cute while she played with his boner. Todd sat back and let it happen, playing with himself as he pretended. Sometimes he pretended she was using her mouth, or that they were having sex.

But sometimes that wasn’t enough, and today was one of those days. He was bored, hard but not getting anywhere with it, imagining just this. So he imagined a boy instead, to change it up a little, a boy with a cute nose and hair that needed cutting and a gap between his teeth that he could whistle through, who used his tongue on Todd and told him how good he tasted.

Todd’s pretend servant boy looked a bit like King Sam, but not really because he didn’t exist in Todd’s imagination. The world in Todd’s head was a good one, one that didn’t have evil people in it.

Todd pretended he was on a chair, with the boy in between his legs. A throne. Todd was a king, and this boy his servant. Todd would press him farther and farther down, not letting him up, enjoying what he was doing. Later, he’d invite the boy to his bedroom and they’d take off their clothes, and Todd would climb on top of him like he did with Derek, and he’d enter him and they’d have sex. Todd was rough with him but only because his servant boy wanted it, he always asked for Todd to go harder, to be rougher, he liked that.

Todd came, making a mess of his hand, smiling as he arched his back, nice heat coursing through him. He wiped the mess on the carpet, knowing nobody would notice. Nobody used this room anyway.

Back in the real world, Todd stood up, fixing his clothes, and thought that next time his servant boy might like it if Todd smacked him a few times.

But that was for next time, and for now Todd sighed, cleared his head of fantasies, and went to go live in the real world.


	57. Henry/Sam, A/B/O (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Sam, with all the noncon that those two occasion. And an A/B/O story, with all the noncon that those tropes occasion.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/03/abo-with-sam-and-henry/): "A/B/O with Sam and Henry?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Henry didn’t know how it had taken him so long to notice.

Sam was on top of him, prepared to fuck him again, a fate Henry was resigned to now. Sam was a stronger alpha than him, his scent overpowering as it always was, permeating the air, permeating everything in the room.

“You going to submit easy this time?” Sam growled, as he pushed Henry down, pulling his clothes open. “Or do I have to fight you for it again?”

Henry couldn’t help but fight, his body knew that he wasn’t supposed to be in this position, even if his brain knew it was safer just to submit. He’d been getting better about just letting Sam have his way, sparing himself the pain.

He took a deep breath of Sam’s scent, because it would help convince him that Sam was stronger than him, that he had no choice.

And that was when Henry noticed.

There was something else to Sam’s scent. Something underneath it. And the scent itself was vaguely…chemical.

Sam reached down, hand going for Henry’s pants, and Henry grabbed his wrist.

“Hey…”

“You’re not really an alpha, are you?” Henry asked, holding Sam there. He was stronger than Sam, physically speaking.

Sam’s expression lasted just a second, but it was enough to tell Henry he was right. “What nonsense are you on now?” Sam snarled. “Sounds like you’re forgetting your…”

“You’re not,” Henry said, shaking his head. He flipped them over, put Sam underneath him with a yelp. He leaned in, took a good sniff of Sam’s neck, his scent glands. Chemical, covering up something else. “You’re a beta.”

Sam looked furious, fighting under Henry’s grip, Henry’s weight. Henry was going to be punished for this, the knife, probably. But right now, he didn’t care, because his Alpha instincts were having a field day and Sam was underneath him. Henry ground his erection into Sam. “I thought your scent was too strong. It’s fake. Comes out of a fucking jar, doesn’t it?”

“Listen, you…”

Herny let out a low growl. “No, no,” he warned. “You’re going to do what I say this time, you little twerp.”

Sam’s expression contorted, going through a series of emotions before settling on rage. But he was tinted with colour too. “I’m going to kill you,” he whispered, jaw squared.

“No, you won’t,” Henry said, leaning down and nipping Sam’s chin. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone your little secret. But I think your hormones are telling you what’s going to happen next, don’t you?”

“I’m not fucking submitting to you.”

“Good.” Henry lifted Sam’s arms above his head, pinned them in one of his. He lifted Sam’s shirt up as he struggled, then undid his pants and yanked them down, exposing his hard-on. Henry smirked at it, undoing his own pants and fishing his own out.

He rubbed his against Sam’s, hard as he wanted, and as he did he used his teeth on Sam’s chin, on his neck, on his shoulders. Not hard enough to leave marks, but hard enough that Sam would feel it.

Sam fought him the whole time. Henry had to credit him, he hadn’t been kidding when he said he wasn’t going to submit. He squirmed and wriggled and made frustrated noises and tried to kick, but Henry wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t let him get any leeway, and he just kept humping Sam, the struggle making his instincts happy, and after a moment he seized up and came, squirting all over Sam’s chest, marking him with his scent.

“You want to cum too?” Henry asked, panting on Sam’s face.

Sam didn’t answer, eyes shut, jaw clenched, face contorted a little.

“Is that a no?”

“Shut up. I’m going to…” Sam sounded like he might cry.

Henry smiled, and he wrapped a hand around Sam, jerked him for a few seconds, ignoring Sam’s protest, the shaking of his head. As Sam came, Henry bit him just lightly on the shoulder, where the mark would be covered by his shirt. Sam shouted underneath him, before going slack under Henry.

Henry kissed him, and then let him go, rolling off. Sam pushed him, surged out of the bed, backing away. “I’m going to flay you alive,” he snarled. “I’m going to…”

“So you didn’t like it?” Henry asked, smiling a smile that Sam couldn’t see. “You seemed to enjoy it to me. Being dominated.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not true and we both know it.”

Sam let out a wordless growl, and he stormed off in the direction of the bathroom, kicking a chair out of the way when it got too close to him.

“So we’ll do this again tomorrow, then?”

The bathroom door slammed shut, and a minute later Henry heard the water running.

Henry chuckled to himself and fixed his clothes, reclining on the bed. He was going to be punished for that, no doubt about it. But it was worth it for the look on Sam’s face.

When Sam came out of the shower an hour later, he wasn’t wearing his artificial scent, and smelled of pure, clean beta. He came over and sat beside Henry on the bed, glowering. “I’m too tired to punish you now. But don’t think you’re getting away with that.”

Henry smiled, put his arm around Sam, who bristled but didn’t fight him off. Definitely worth it. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”


	58. Nicholas/Isaac, Making Porn (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in either the future of the Modern AU or in a different AU where they're broke university students who figure they may as well cash on in their every day activities.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/04/55-with-isaac-and-nicholas): "55 [Making Porn] with Isaac and Nicholas?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

The cameras didn’t bother Nicholas as much as he’d thought they would. He walked into the room, towel around his waist, and was able to mostly ignore them, eyes focused on Isaac on the bed, three fingers up his ass as he jerked off with a stupid look on his face.

And if Isaac wasn’t distracting enough, the thought of some cash after this was done helped keep Nicholas focused. Tuition and food were expensive and this was something that they’d do anyway, so where was the harm?

Or at least that was how it had been sold to them.

Nicholas got the nod from Thomas, the director—“director”—and stepped into the shot. They’d even sprinkled some water on his chest to make it look like he’d been in the shower. “The fuck you doing?” he demanded. “Touching yourself on my bed?” Even to him, the lines sounded bad, but Nicholas hadn’t written them.

Isaac’s eyes snapped open, affecting an exaggerated look of worry. “I…didn’t think you’d be back so soon…”

“Yeah, well, I am,” Nicholas said, stepping forward and trying to put whatever a “horny sadistic grin” was on his face. “If you were that into me you should have just said so.”

And as Isaac spluttered, Nicholas dropped his towel, revealing that he was hard in a scene that he hoped would have suitably dramatic music in the final edit. He was also already wearing a condom for speed of getting to the good part. He’d thought it was a bit silly that he’d apparently been wearing a condom in the shower, but he’d been assured that nobody was going to care that much.

It was the sort of thing that Nicholas would care about if he were watching porn.

Anyway, he was wearing a condom, which was good since he hadn’t really mastered the art of putting one on without looking like dog chasing his tail (Isaac’s words), and he climbed onto the bed, on his knees, and smirked at Isaac. “If you want me so much, come get a taste.”

It had been written as ‘cum’ in the script, but Nicholas tried to enunciate in such a way as to make clear he knew how English worked.

Supposed to be enraptured by Nicholas’s masculine authority (Nicholas hadn’t written the damn script), Isaac moved a little closer, and once he was in reach, Nicholas grabbed him, pulled him down really rather rudely, and forced Isaac’s face onto his cock. His face not his mouth. He held Isaac down there, grateful that for the moment he didn’t have to make any silly faces as the camera zoomed in on Isaac licking what he could reach while Nicholas rubbed his cock all over Isaac’s face.

Nicholas had probably seen scenes like this a hundred times in porn and never realized until now that it was really terrible oral technique. He knew a thing or two about getting blowjobs and this wasn’t really how they worked.

Still, it wasn’t like it was the worst, and when the camera zoomed out a little, it wasn’t hard for him to make a face like he was enjoying himself. “Aw yeah, work that, you little bitch.”

Nicholas had never called anyone a bitch in his life, and Isaac really wouldn’t be his first choice to start with. Especially not while he was in the middle of sex. It was just mean.

At a motion from Thomas, Nicholas started thrusting a little, moving his cock up and down Isaac’s cheeks, and even into his mouth for suck once in a while. “You want that? You want to taste that?” Nicholas asked, pretending for some reason he wasn’t wearing a condom and that Isaac was going to taste something other than latex. At Thomas’s nod, Nicholas grabbed Isaac’s hair and thrust into his mouth hard. “Here you go!”

Probably the weirdest part about this was some dude he didn’t know giving him cues for how to have sex with Isaac. But even that wasn’t as weird as he’d thought. Especially not after that time last month in Isaac’s apartment. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have been so zealous in his insistence that he wasn’t shy.

In any case, Nicholas wasn’t feeling shy now, but he was feeling like kind of an asshole as he roughly thrust into Isaac’s mouth with “aggression but not in a rapey way” Isaac sucked on him, cheeks hollow, so that it was possible to see the muscles moving with the passage of Nicholas’s cock.

Nicholas felt himself start to cum, and he took a second to remember his lines. “Here it cums, you little…yeah…” he managed, as he filled the condom in Isaac’s mouth, bucking his hips hard into Isaac’s face, burying his cock in there.

When he was done, he pulled out, smirked down at Isaac, who was drooling a little. “Hope you’re not tired. I’ve got another hole I want to try out.”

“Cut,” Thomas said, waving at the camera guy to turn off. Nicholas looked up at him, and Isaac wiped his mouth. Thomas smiled. “That was pretty good, guys. Good visuals on the blowjob. I want to see it last longer—you came too fast, Nick. Can we have you pull out after a minute or so of sucking, let Isaac lick you again, maybe your balls too, and then have another round of deepthroat before you shoot?”

Nicholas blinked. What he’d gotten out of that was that Thomas wanted Isaac to blow him again, which sounded pretty nice. “Sure. Isaac?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Isaac nodded, leaning back on his hands. “He could go a little rougher with the thrusting, yeah?” Nicholas knew for a fact that this was Isaac’s first time shooting porn too, but he fit right in.

Of course.

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed, holding his fingers a short distance apart. “Just a bit. Don’t want to come off as rapey.”

“Can I change some of the lines?” Nicholas asked, peeling the condom off and tossing it in the garbage can. Isaac tsked, but Nicholas ignored him.

Thomas shrugged. “My girlfriend wrote those lines.”

Nicholas…wasn’t sure what to say about that.

Isaac laughed, patted Nicholas’s thigh. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody’s in it for the dialogue anyway. Now, do you want me to put your condom on for you?”


	59. Wes/Mick, Gentle Sex (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some nice loving morning sex in captivity.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/06/hi-i-really-like-your-writing-and-would-love-to/): "Hi! I really like your writing and would love to read prompt no. 38 [Gentle Sex] or 60 [Morning Sex] with Wes and Mick!" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Their prison cell was just a room, actually. It even had a nice window. The window overlooked a cliff and a three-mile drop, so there was no danger of them escaping that way, but it was a nice view.

It wasn’t the worst ever, and it almost made Wes forget sometimes that they’d been kidnapped by demons who wanted to kill Cal. They were awfully friendly demons, actually. Giving them a nice room, feeding them, letting them out to bathe every other day and giving them a magic chamberpot that cleaned itself.

If they hadn’t wanted to kill Wes’s boyfriend, he’d almost have been tempted to call them nice.

They had three straw mattresses on the floor to sleep on, and Wes and Mick had taken two and piled them on top of each other, letting Travis have the third one on the other side of the room. It worked out okay, except they were kind of bored.

All that was to say that when Wes woke up one morning with a boner, it was hardly the weirdest thing ever, even in the circumstances. Mick was on top of him, and Wes just held him there, not really able to do anything. He chanced a glance over to the other side of the room and saw Travis snoring on his mattress. He slept later than both of them, usually.

Wes just stayed where he was, waiting for the sun to wake Mick up. When it did a few minutes later, Mick yawned, nuzzling Wes. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

Mick made a noise, nuzzled a bit more. “You’re hard.”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Wes was quiet for a second, logic and instinct fighting. Instinct won. “Travis is still asleep.”

“Mm.” Mick hadn’t opened his eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Wes asked. He’d assumed Mick would be more nervous with Travis in the room.

“Okay. We’re going to be here for God knows how long together.” Mick kissed Wes on the chin. “Just be quiet.”

“Says the loud one.”

“You’re already sucking at this.”

Wes snickered, and he reached down into Mick’s pants, wrapped a hand around his wood. Mick did the same for him and they started stroking each other in tune, kissing once in a while. They didn’t go fast, they were in no hurry.

Wes felt himself start to make noises and held them in, settling for kissing Mick a little more frequently, on the forehead and hair, all over what he could reach. Mick’s sudden deep breaths suggested he was doing something similar.

Pulling Mick up a bit, Wes brought him to proper kissing level and covered Mick’s mouth with his as they touched each other. He kissed him softly but insistently, wanting to taste him even as gentle waves of pleasure started to push through him.

“Mm…” Wes did make a noise as he came, but he was matched by Mick, his hand covered in sticky cum. After he was done shooting Wes just lay there, letting Mick lay on top of him, continuing to kiss Mick for a good while.

When Mick moved his mouth away for air, he smiled down at Wes, opening his eyes for the first time. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Wes said, not minding that he was going to have this mess in his pants now.

“We’re going to be okay,” Mick whispered, patting Wes’s cheek with his free hand.

“I know.” Wes kissed him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Mick smiled. “Now hopefully Cal will hurry his short little ass up and rescue us.”

Wes chuckled, holding Mick in place. He did hope that. “Yeah. But being here with you isn’t so bad either.”


	60. Sully/Bartholomew, After Injury (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was so exciting, Sully and Bartholomew are great characters whose relationship I can't want to get more into. This one's canon, or at least the relationship behind it is.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/06/are-the-prompts-still-being-accepted-id-like/): "Are the prompts still being accepted? I'd like some insight in Sully and Bartholomew friendship and I think #2 [After Injury or Hurt/Comfort] would be interesting (if it won't be a spoiler of course)," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“Ow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re not the asshole who put it there,” Sullivan grumbled, staidly looking up at the sky as Bartholomew healed the cut on his thigh. “But, you know, if you want to take that as an invitation to hurry up, I wouldn’t mind.”

It wasn’t Bartholomew’s fault the healing was going slowly. Injuries earned fighting dragons didn’t heal fast. “You know, those sons of bitches were supposed to be on _our_ side.”

“They are,” Bartholomew muttered, fingers pressed gently around the wound that was high up on Sullivan’s thigh. High enough up that he’d had to drop his pants to let Bartholomew heal him properly.

If there was anyone Sullivan trusted to have his hand that close to his exposed junk, it was Bartholomew.

“Funny, because I’m pretty sure one just tried to kill us.”

“Theresa’s magic doesn’t always take the way it should. Didn’t you notice he was completely out of it? The graft made him crazy.”

Sullivan sighed, wincing as the cut burned. He had a few other cuts as well, but not life-threatening ones. So they could wait until after Bartholomew healed the one that had nearly castrated him. “You ever think that we make an awful lot of collateral damage for people who are supposedly the good guys?”

“Yeah,” Bartholomew agreed, prodding a little deeper. “The bad guys are worse, though.”

“I know. Any chance you could…” Sullivan made a circular hand gesture. “You know. Not take forever? A bit chilly to be hanging out like this.”

Bartholomew smirked. He reached up with his other hand and gave Sullivan a poke, right on the head of his boner. The boner he’d popped three seconds after exposing himself. “You sure that’s the reason? You don’t just want to sneak off and give this guy a pull?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Sullivan grumbled, looking back up at the sky. It was a natural response to the adrenaline of the fight they’d just been in. Everyone got off on killing dragons. “Like you’re not liking having your face down there. Pervert.”

“Yeah, because there’s nothing I want to look at more than Sullivan Junior,” Bartholomew teased, giving Sullivan’s boner a shake with his other hand.

“H-hey! Get your own!” Sully should have just healed himself. Or died of blood loss. Either way.

“I’ve got my own, but it’s not trying to poke me in the eye.”

“Not my problem,” Sullivan growled as Bartholomew took his hand away. “What are you doing?”

“You made it pretty clear you didn’t want my hand there,” Bartholomew said, attention focused on Sullivan’s wound again. He had a way of looking innocent even when he was splattered with blood.

Sullivan sighed. Bartholomew was so annoying. “That was obviously a no that meant yes, dumbass.”

“No doesn’t mean yes by definition. Do you want me to help you with that guy or not?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sullivan said, since he wasn’t being understood. “It’s your fault.”

Bartholomew chuckled, took Sullivan’s in his hand again and, still using his other hand to heal the cut, leaned forward and slipped his lips over the head of Sullivan’s dick.

Sullivan watched as Bartholomew sucked on him, rapt as he disappeared into Bartholomew’s mouth. Call him weird, it was a view that always fascinated him. Bartholomew only took the head in, sucking gently on it as he ran warm healing magic into Sullivan’s thigh, using his tongue liberally to lap up the fluid that Sullivan was leaking.

Sullivan blamed the adrenaline for the fact that he didn’t last long. Bartholomew was good at this, and he was horny from killing the dragon, that was all. That was why it was only a minute later that he arched his back, thrust his hips a little and shot into his friend’s mouth, whimpering out Bartholomew’s name as he did.

Bartholomew swallowed it all, and kept his mouth there for a few seconds longer, gently suckling Sullivan’s head to get all the residue, and then he pulled off, smiling up at Sully. He removed his hand, revealing that the cut was gone as well. “All better,” he said.

Sullivan looked down at him for a moment, struck, and not sure what to say. They’d done this before, they did it all the time. They’d been fuck-buddies for years. Bartholomew was his best friend.

And Bartholomew was hopelessly in love with Gilligan, and they both knew that.

So Sullivan smiled back down at him, offering Bartholomew his hand to help him up. “Thanks. You want one too?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

“That’s not the same as saying yes,” Sullivan reminded him as he pulled his pants up, fixing his armour back in place.

Bartholomew chuckled. “Fair. Yes. But let’s get the rest of your wounds healed.”

Sullivan shrugged. “They’re not life-threatening.”

“Still.”

Bartholomew had non-life-threatening injuries too. “They can wait until we get back to the Citadel. Walking around with some battle scars makes me feel all strong and manly and shit. Besides, you cut a dragon’s head off an hour ago. I think you deserve a blowjob from your best friend, don’t you?”

Bartholomew laughed out loud now. “Well, when you put it that way, it makes a hell of a lot of sense.”

“That’s why I’m the smart one,” Sullivan told him, stretching and trying not to wince when his remaining injuries complained. “Now sit down, whip it out and let’s celebrate.”


	61. Hugh/Al/Trevor, Hurt/Comfort (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some attention for a few minor characters in slavery, which I appreciate.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/07/hmm-number-2-with-hugh-al-and-trevor-would-be/): "Hmm, number 2 [After Injury or Hurt/Comfort]with Hugh, Al and Trevor would be interesting. Al and Trevor need some attention as well. :)" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Hugh stared down at his boner, willing it to go away, and willing himself not to break down over it. It was just a thing, just a body thing, it didn’t mean anything. He knew that well enough.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Theodore and Marcus. Marcus was a loudmouth, a brat, the kind of kid who’d probably been a bully. Hugh couldn’t stand him. He was rude and took up a lot of space and he smelled weird; he was annoying and so self-assured and always making threats that he wasn’t going to follow through on. He was a pain in the ass and _he didn’t deserve what was happening to him at all_ , but Hugh was just _so grateful_ that it wasn’t him anymore, that Theodore didn’t want him in his bed anymore, that Marcus had taken his place. He was so grateful but he couldn’t even have that to himself because he knew it was wrong, knew that Theodore was hurting Marcus, knew what was happening and there was nothing he could do about it.

And all he wanted was for this boner to go away but he couldn’t stop picturing Theodore and Marcus in bed and it was making him hard because Hugh was a freak who got off on…

“Hey.”

Hugh jumped when Trevor sat down beside him. “H-hey.”

Trevor put an arm around him as Al sat down on his other side. They’d always been nice to Hugh, even at the beginning when he’d been a sniveling jerk. “You okay?” Trevor asked.

Hugh nodded, not trusting himself to talk.

“Only you’ve been sitting here for a while looking like you want to cry at that boner.”

Hugh felt his face heat up, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking down. “I…”

“It’s okay,” Trevor told him, pulling Hugh closer. Hugh started crying into Trevor’s shirt like an idiot. “You’re okay.”

“It’s, it’s not that,” Hugh cried. “It’s just…”

“You’re thinking about him and Marcus,” Al said, patting Hugh’s back. “And you feel bad because you’re hard over it.”

Sniffing, Hugh nodded. He’d been more transparent than the thought. “I’m so awful.”

“No,” Trevor told him, pulling Hugh into his lap and wrapping an arm around him. “You’re just a teenager, and thinking about sex makes you get hard, even if it’s bad.”

Al crawled closer to him, hand on Hugh’s leg. “You haven’t touched yourself since Marcus came here, have you?”

Quietly, Hugh shook his head.

“Because it doesn’t feel right? Feels like that shouldn’t be something you should do anymore, because you hated it when he did it to you, and now he’s doing it to Marcus, and you shouldn’t be happy when Marcus is getting hurt.”

Hugh nodded. Al could read his mind. “How did you know?”

“Because that’s how I felt when he bought Denny,” Al said, sadly. Nobody talked about Denny without sounding sad. “I tortured myself over it, refused to do what was normal. Trevor started jerking me off in my sleep until I stopped acting like I didn’t like sex.”

As he said that, Hugh knew what was coming. He’d seen Trevor and Al touching each other before. He looked up at Trevor, holding him in place. Trevor smiled at him. “Can we touch you, Hugh? We won’t if you say no. But we want to help you. And we want to show you that it doesn’t have to be like it was with him.”

“And,” Al added, smiling encouragingly. “Torturing yourself isn’t going to help Marcus and it isn’t going to help you either. We want you to feel better, not worse.”

“I can…touch myself…” Hugh muttered, oddly embarrassed.

“But you won’t, will you? Come on, let us help you.”

Hugh looked down at his boner, thought about Theodore and Marcus. And let the image of Al and Trevor push that away. Maybe they were right. He nodded.

“That’s a boy.” Trevor pulled Hugh’s shirt over his head, leaving him naked, and reached down to wrap a hand around his boner. Hugh hissed. “That’s what happens when you ignore yourself.”

Hugh nodded, eyes shut, moving his hips a little, raising them from Trevor’s lap. Al’s hand was on his inner thigh, and he was kind of hoping it would move a bit. That hand squeezed him. “Hugh. Can I put a finger in you? I think you’ll like it.”

Hugh knew he would, and he nodded immediately, not caring how humiliating it was anymore. He just wanted to cum.

A second later Al’s finger slid into him, not doing much but being there, and Hugh clenched around it, focusing on that and on Trevor’s hand and on how nice they both felt and…

“Ah!” Hugh came in a surge, the power of it washing through his body in a way he didn’t think an orgasm ever had. It carried him away in an explosion of sensation and when he came back, he felt so much lighter than he had. There was a lot of cum on his chest.

He lay back against Trevor, panting, and Trevor held him. He took his hand off Hugh, and Al removed his finger, and both of them just sat there and waited for him to recover. Hugh opened his eyes, saw Al smiling at him. “Feel better?”

Hugh nodded. “Thank you…” he said, tearing up again.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Trevor urged him, hugging Hugh from behind. “You’re okay.”

“Why are you guys so nice?” Hugh asked, sniffing. He didn’t deserve it.

“Because we care about you,” Trevor said, moving with Hugh on his lap, leaning back against the wall beside Al and shifting Hugh so he was cuddled in between them.

Hugh nodded, not sure he believed that. “Okay. Thank you for…”

“Anytime, Hugh.”

“You could help us out too if you want,” Al suggested.

“Al.”

“What? I’m just offering.”

“I’d like that,” Hugh said, nodding as he snuggled in between them, happy despite himself to be where he was. Or at least as happy as he knew how to be. “I’d like that.”


	62. Henry/Sam, Role Reversal (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A different type of Henry/Sam story, set in an AU where Henry's the evil overlord, Sam got captured trying to take him down and is slowly being corrupted by the eminently reasonable villain. Where Sam is violent and physical in the main story, here Henry is coercive and manipulative in a subtle way. This is still a rape scene. Sam consented because Henry, who has all the power, manipulated him into doing it. Sam's consent doesn't mean anything as far as I'm concerned.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/07/75-with-sam-and-henry-if-youre-still-doing-those/): "75 [Role Reversal] with Sam and Henry if you’re still doing those?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/). 

\---

“How does that feel?” Henry asked, when his third finger was inside of Sam.

“It’s fine,” Sam grunted, trying not to squirm.

“Just fine?” Henry brushed Sam’s prostate as he asked.

“Ah! It’s good,” Sam corrected. “It’s good. I like it.”

That was better. Henry smiled. “If you’d prefer we could just stick with the fingers. If you aren’t ready for…”

“I’m ready!” Sam interrupted, moving his hips. “I’m ready for your cock, God. Just do it. Not a child.”

Henry chuckled, brushed Sam’s cheek with his other hand. “No,” he agreed. “You’re not.”

Sam was an idiot, though. A few months of impressing him with how smoothly the kingdom ran, of explaining to him why an anarchist approach to government wouldn’t work, why sometimes kings had to do bad things, and he was already enamoured with Henry. A few jokes here and there about masturbation to relieve stress, told in the conspiratorial tones of boy talk, and he felt like he was part of something secret. Just enough attention, compliments on Sam’s appearance and intelligence, and Sam wanted more from the powerful older boy who was interested in him. And of course, a few snide comments here and there about Sam’s inexperience, and he was jumping to prove himself.

Henry could have just tossed Sam in his bed and had his way with the boy, but what was the point of that? All he’d had to do was ask, and here Sam was, practically demanding his cock.

So Henry gave it to him, pulling his fingers out and oiling himself up, positioning himself at Sam’s stretched hole, hands on Sam’s thighs to push them apart. “Last chance to back out.”

“Just do it.”

“As you wish,” Henry said, pushing his cock into his chained sorcerer, slowly but resolutely. It should sting but not hurt. He wanted Sam to come back to his bed after this, after all.

It was obvious on Sam’s face that he didn’t like it at first, but Henry kept going until he was all the way in. Once he was, he reached up and stroked Sam again. “There we go. That’s not so bad, is it?”

“It’s…it’s good,” Sam gritted, breathing hard. He nodded. “You can…” He was clenching over and over around Henry’s cock.

“I will,” Henry said, and he started moving inside Sam. Sam’s hand came up and gripped Henry’s wrist, his clouded eyes wide open as Henry thrust in and out, picked up speed. He aimed as best he could for Sam’s prostate, intending to make this as good as he could for Sam.

Showing Sam the good parts of his life was Henry’s main goal. It was how he was going to get Sam’s loyalty, after all.

Henry fucked Sam slowly, deliberately, aiming for Sam to orgasm before he did. It was harder than he’d expected. Henry had fucked people before, but Sam was different, somehow. Maybe it was his inexperience combined with his desire to please that he hid under a veil of anger. His insistence that he was fine by himself that he used to hide the fact that he was desperately lonely. Maybe it was his power, trapped behind that collar.

Or maybe he just felt really good around Henry’s cock, who knew?

Either way, Henry was having a hard time not just driving into Sam, fucking him senseless. He couldn’t do that now, not yet. Not while there was still a concern that he’d scare Sam off. So he went slow, touching Sam’s face to distract himself as sweat beaded on his brow. Sam was panting, sweaty, flushed. “Bet you never thought you’d be doing this with the evil king, hm?”

“Sh…shut up…” Sam grated.

Henry gasped a laugh as he thrust in again. “Think your dad would be disappointed if he saw you doing this?”

“I…”

“Spreading your legs for me?”

“Maybe,” Sam panted.

“Especially if he saw how much you liked it.”

“I don’t care.” Sam was clearly having a hard time speaking. “I don’t care about him. Just fuck me.”

That was an admission that Henry hadn’t expected. “As you wish,” he said, rewarding Sam by doing just that, just a little harder, just a little faster.

Which was just enough for Sam, who tensed up, clenched around Henry and squirted all over his belly despite Henry not having touched his dick. Henry took that as his cue, and once Sam was finished and relaxed, Henry gave him three fast thrusts and brought himself over the edge, grabbing Sam’s shoulders as he pushed all the way in, kissing Sam as he came.

Henry pulled out once he’d shot inside Sam, laying beside him on the bed. “You were better at that than I expected,” he said.

Predictably, Sam sidled up closer to him. “It wasn’t hard or anything. You made it seem like such a big deal.” He was so flushed in the face it was funny.

Henry smirked. “Well, I went easy on you. I didn’t know how hard you could take it.”

Predictably again, Sam scowled. “You could have gone harder. You don’t need to baby me.”

“No,” Henry said, lifting up one of Sam’s hands and kissing it. “No, I don’t. If you’d like to do it again sometime, I can go harder.”

“I’d…yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll give you some time to recover. Maybe a week since it was your first time.” Henry put a little bit of doubt into his voice.

“I…don’t need that long. I’ll be fine.”

“Hm.” Henry kissed him on the cheek. “How about this, then? I’ll let you decide when you’re ready to go again. I’ll be there in about ten minutes, so whenever you’d like. Tomorrow, the day after…”

Sam was about to explode in his frustration. More than anything, he hated being underestimated. “Ten minutes is fine,” he spat. “I’ll be ready. Go as hard as you want.”

“Alright, Samson, I will.” Henry kissed him again. This was even easier than he’d thought it would be. “Just remember that you asked for it.”


	63. Ron/Chokevine, Plant Sex (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Ron has a sexual encounter with a plant named Charlie.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/08/idk-what-number-this-would-be-but-uh-anything/): "Idk what number this would be but uh... Anything with Ron and Charlie the Chokevine?" by Gamerkun0525, based (but not really) on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Ron had been in the river for about twenty minutes when he felt a tendril wrap around his ankle.

Sighing, he looked up at Charlie the chokevine. “Do you mind?” he called. “I’m trying to catch fish here. Which is your job, by the way.”

James had assured him that the plants understood him when he talked.

The chokevine tendril just wrapped tighter, and Ron sighed again. If Charlie wasn’t going to let go, Ron was going to have to untangle him, and he was in the river and didn’t want to drown. It was possible that Charlie would stop him from drowning.

Ron wasn’t about to risk it, though, and he took a step forward to give the vine some slack, and lifted up his foot to unwrap the tendril. As he did, another one wrapped around his other ankle, and Ron staggered for a second, trying to keep his feet. He put his hand in the water and found one on his wrist as well, holding him in place.

“Not cool, Charlie,” Ron said. “You’re not even supposed to be able to reach this far. How did you…”

Ron trailed off when another vine wrapped around him. “Oh…” he said, as Charlie started squeezing his dick. “Well. If you wanted to play all you had to do was say so.”

James had said he could do this with Charlie whenever he wanted.

Charlie got Ron hard pretty quickly, no mean feat in the cold water. He squeezed up and down the length of Ron’s erection, and even paid some attention to his balls now and then. Ron stepped forward to give him a bit more leeway, and Charlie wrapped around him some more.

The very tip of the vine was wrapped around the head of Ron’s dick, and it was there that Charlie was squeezing the hardest and most often. Ron was panting, putting most of his energy into staying standing in the moving water, happily letting Charlie do all the work. He was keeping a pretty consistent pace, bringing Ron nicely closer and closer.

He didn’t notice another vine sneaking between his legs until it was pressing at his hole, and Ron gasped as Charlie penetrated him, the thin vine sliding up inside him easily and without much resistance. It was smaller than anything else Ron had had up there, but it felt funny, different, and he liked it.

When Charlie poked Ron’s prostate, Ron came right away with a shout that echoed in the woods. Charlie squeezed him through his orgasm as Ron shot into the river, the flow of water taking all his cum away like it had never been there.

When he was done Ron stood there, just focused on staying standing. All the chokevine tendrils loosened, the one behind sliding out, and they all drifted away. “Thanks,” Ron said to Charlie, who rustled in response.

Ron was going to have to have a talk with James about what he was teaching that plant. How did a chokevine know where to find the prostate?

A minute later, Charlie rustled again, and the vines pulled three fish out of the river and tossed them on the bank.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that,” Ron said, heading for the bank. “Thank you.”

Charlie wrapped around his ankle again, just to give him a gentle squeeze, and then retreated.

As Ron picked up the fish, he patted Charlie’s vines. “You’re not so bad, you know? I’ll see you later, Charlie.”

As he headed towards the tree stump where he cut the fish open, Ron got a quick slap on the butt from something thin and narrow. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t do that.”

Ron hadn’t thought that plants could laugh, but he was pretty sure Charlie proved him wrong as he walked away.


	64. Marcus/Theodore, Spanking (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theodore administering a nonconsensual spanking to a defiant slave.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/08/weird-idea-but-number-90-with-theodore-and/): "Weird idea, but number 90 with Theodore and Marcus, perhaps? Since he was probably very defiant and all. (I have already accepted that I will go to hell so whatever)," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“Why don’t you come here and sit on my lap, Marcus?”

Marcus glared from his chair. “Why? Because I don’t want to.”

“Excuse me?” Theodore asked, looking up from his book. He was holding out his arm, obviously having expected Marcus to just jump up and sit on him.

Marcus curled more into his seat. He was naked because Theodore wouldn’t let him have his clothes, but he wasn’t ashamed of that. “That’s why I don’t come sit on your lap. I was answering your question.” He refused to make eye contact with Theodore.

Theodore wanted a shy, polite little slave who would call him ‘Master’ and bend over when asked. He wasn’t getting that with Marcus. Marcus had decided on the first night when Theodore had fucked him—Theodore could have his body, but he wasn’t getting Marcus’s mind and Marcus wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

Theodore just seemed amused as he watched Marcus. “Very clever. I meant that I want you to come over here and sit on my lap.”

Marcus looked up. “Good for you.”

“Marcus.” Theodore’s voice hardened. Marcus glared. “Come here.”

“Fine,” Marcus sighed, got up, scratched at his neck under his collar, and came over, standing in front of Theodore. “What?”

Theodore looked at him, a hand brushing Marcus’s arm. “I’m getting a little bit tired of your attitude, Marcus. I’d like you to start being a little more polite.”

Marcus snorted. “Well, I’m getting a little tired of you being a pervert. I’d like you to keep it in your pants a little more.”

Marcus saw it, he saw the minute he crossed over the line. The word ‘pervert’ had Theodore’s expression hardening into something more like a glare, and his grabbed Marcus’s wrist tightly. “All right, I’ve had it. Come here.”

“What…” Theodore yanked Marcus towards him, pulling him downwards. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to punish you for being rude. I don’t like to hurt my slaves, but your behaviour is extremely inappropriate and I will not tolerate it anymore. Lay across my lap.”

Marcus’s eyes went wide. “Are…are you going to spank me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not a little kid!” Marcus had been spanked as a child all the time. He’d thought he was past that now.

“You’re acting like one. I think a nice spanking will encourage you to behave. Come.” Theodore pulled him down, draping Marcus across his lap. Marcus was too stunned to do anything but comply.

Theodore rested a hand on Marcus’s butt, sighing. “I don’t like hurting people, Marcus.”

“Then don’t!”

Theodore chuckled, stroking Marcus’s butt. He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to do it, Marcus realized. He was just trying to scare him, to show Marcus that he was serious. Marcus got the message—he wasn’t making things easy for Theodore but he also wasn’t trying to make them harder for himself. He wouldn’t call Theodore a pervert anymore if it was such a sensitive thing for him to hear from the teenage slave he was fucking.

Marcus relaxed, confident that he was right. Theodore was too much of a wimp to actually spank him. He was probably going to pet him for a minute, maybe finger him and then scold him, that was all.

Assured in his conclusions, Marcus let out a small breath of relief.

And sucked it back in all at once when Theodore’s hand smacked him right on the butt. “Hey!”

“I told you why you were here, Marcus,” Theodore said, raising his hand and spanking Marcus again.

It was the fourth slap before Marcus braced himself, preparing his body for the smacks as they came. Theodore wasn’t hitting him particularly hard or anything. He could take it. He was strong.

Sure enough, Theodore stopped after a few more strokes. “That was ten,” Theodore said, letting out a breath. “For being smart with me. I’ll give you twenty for disobeying me, and then twenty more for insulting me. I think that should be enough to get through to you.”

Without waiting for an answer, Theodore started spanking Marcus again, harder this time. Marcus clenched his jaw shut, determined to keep quiet. He wasn’t going to make any noise, he wasn’t going to let Theodore have the satisfaction of knowing this was working. He wasn’t going to let Theodore win.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room, the only sound Marcus would allow. He counted them in his head. Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Theodore’s other hand was on Marcus’s back, holding him in place. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Every smack was pushing Marcus against Theodore’s lap, rubbing. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. Marcus…

Marcus was hard, and when he realized that, a small sound of embarrassment escaped him.

Twenty.

_Damnit._ Marcus panted, trying to catch his breath, grateful that Theodore had decided to take a break. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice Marcus’s boner.

“Now,” Theodore said, also panting. “Would you like to apologize for calling me names, Marcus?”

Marcus had always been told that his mouth was going to be the death of him someday. “Screw you.”

“Ah.” Theodore sighed. Marcus’s butt stung. “I’d hoped to take ten off this lot, but you’ve gone and added ten. A pity.”

The first strike came hard, the hardest yet. And the next several made clear that Theodore had been holding back on purpose. Marcus really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

But now wasn’t the time for that, because Marcus couldn’t keep quiet anymore, and he let out a cry with each smack. At ten strokes, tears started to collect in his eyes.

At fifteen, he stopped feeling strong.

At twenty, he managed to get out, “I’m…I’m sorry…” and it sounded pitiful.

At twenty-five smacks, Marcus came against Theodore’s legs, and he was so out of it he didn’t even feel the last five hits.

“There you go,” Theodore said, patting Marcus on the back. His butt was on fire. “Let’s stand you up, now, I want to get a good look at you.”

Marcus stood up in front of Theodore. Tears tracked down his cheeks, his eyes were puffy and red, his nose was running, his whole face was flushed. His dick was still hard and sticky.

Theodore smiled at him. “I think you liked that, didn’t you?” he said, brushing Marcus’s boner.

Thoroughly humiliated, Marcus just stood there. He’d hated that…but he’d also liked it. Maybe.

Now Theodore stroked his cheek. “You’re so strong, Marcus. Such a strong boy. Always so strong. I think maybe part of you enjoyed not having to be strong for once.”

Marcus didn’t know what to do. So he just nodded. It was easier.

“I enjoyed it too,” Theodore said, gesturing towards the tent in his pants. “I’m glad you’re so strong, Marcus, it makes me less worried that I’m going to hurt you.”

Marcus smiled. He couldn’t help himself. He’d met the other slaves, the ones Theodore had gotten tired of. They were all wimps. That was probably why he’d gotten tired of them.

“Now,” Theodore said, undoing his pants. “For a different reason this time, but I’m going to ask you again. Why don’t you come and sit on my lap, Marcus?”

“Yes, Master.”


	65. Nicholas/Isaac, First Time (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not actually anyone's first time, but it's Nicholas's first time bottoming. :)

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/09/i-never-even-thought-about-putting-anything-up/): "“I never even thought about putting anything up here until I met you.” “Give it a try sometime,” Isaac suggested, clenching a little around Nicholas’s thumb. “It’s fun. Pairs well with having your other hand on your dick.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” [from [chapter 42 of Chosen One](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4936777/chapters/30639090)] #29 would Nicholas bottom?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“This was a bad idea,” Nicholas muttered.

“You want me to stop?” Isaac asked, immediately and sincerely.

“No…” Nicholas said. “I didn’t say that. Just…you’d better not tell anyone about this.”

‘This’ was Nicholas, stark naked on Isaac’s bed, ass in the air, hugging Isaac’s pillow while Isaac slid three fingers in and out of him from behind, patiently stretching him. He never should have listened to Isaac’s suggestion that he try sticking fingers up there, because Isaac had been right, it did pair well with his hand on his dick, and Nicholas had found himself liking it. And getting frustrated that he couldn’t fit just a little bit more up there, couldn’t quite reach that part that he could almost feel and wanted to touch.

He had enough experience with Isaac that he hadn’t had to think too hard about what else might go up there to help him with that problem.

“Of course I won’t,” Isaac said, sincere again. “Come on, you know that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nicholas said, panting. “I know. That’s why I came to you and not someone else.” Nicholas snorted. “Who else could I go to and say ‘hey, I’ve been wondering what it’s like to have a dick up my ass, help a guy out?’”

“I can think of a few guys who’d indulge you,” Isaac said, really getting his fingers up there, farther than Nicholas had gotten.

“No,” Nicholas shook his head. “I asked you for a reason.”

“And what reason is that?”

Nicholas flushed a little. “Because I assumed you were good at it.”

That and because he trusted Isaac to go slowly, to stop if Nicholas asked him to, and to make sure everything was done properly. Which apparently included ten minutes of fingers up there first.

Not that Nicholas was complaining.

Isaac chuckled. “Well, I’m not as experienced with topping as I am the other way around, but I’ll do my best. Here, I’m going to show you something awesome.”

Before Nicholas could even form the question, Isaac poked something inside him, that same something that Nicholas had been looking for. Nicholas shuddered, letting out a quiet moan. “Good, huh? That’s the best part of being on bottom.”

“Yeah…” It had felt really good. “Do it again.”

Isaac did, but then he pulled his fingers back as Nicholas gasped in pleasure once more. “You want to keep going with the fingers, or are you ready to join me in the world of bottoms?”

Nicholas was, at best, a tourist in the world of bottoms, but he nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Isaac said, pulling his fingers out of Nicholas. Nicholas tried not to make a stupid noise as the loss, looking over his shoulder to see Isaac pouring oil on his hand and coating his dick with it carefully. When he was done he smiled at Nicholas, put a hand on Nicholas’s ass to steady himself and guided himself towards Nicholas’s hole with his other hand. “Tell me if you want me to stop at all, okay?”

“I know.” Nicholas appreciated the reminder, though. He was telling himself that he fit inside Isaac, and he was bigger than Isaac. He knew a dick could fit up there. It was fine.

“Good.” Isaac pressed against Nicholas’s hole, and slipped inside easier than Nicholas had thought. That must have been what the ten minutes of fingers were for, he figured, because Isaac slid inside a good length, filling Nicholas up in a way fingers hadn’t.

“Oh…” Nicholas said, taking deep breaths. Isaac paused, patting his back.

“How’s it going?”

“You’re bigger than you look,” Nicholas said, smiling, eyes closed.

A chuckle.

“What?”

“You know I’m only halfway in, right?”

_Oh_. Nicholas opened his eyes, surprised. It felt like much more. “Well…yes. It doesn’t hurt. You can put the rest in.”

He’d expected it to sting a little, but Isaac had done a good job preparing him.

“Alright,” Isaac reached around and wrapped a hand around Nicholas’s dick, slowly jerking Nicholas off as he pushed inside.

Nicholas buried his face in the pillow to muffle the sounds he was letting out. Now it stung a little, but not so bad that Nicholas wanted it to stop. After a really long minute, he felt Isaac’s hips connect with his. “There you go,” Isaac muttered, hand on Nicholas’s thigh. “All the way in.” His voice sounded strained. “You good?”

Nicholas nodded.

“Okay. I’m going to move.” Isaac did just that, pulled out and pushing back in, then doing it again faster, and a little faster again until he was matching the speed of his hand on Nicholas’s dick. He was panting but not nearly as badly as Nicholas, who was short of breath.

Isaac picked up speed, a lot of speed but not too much, fucking Nicholas with thrusts that certainly seemed practiced to Nicholas. Even from here he could tell that Isaac had more control over himself than did Nicholas when he was topping. “Forgot how good this is,” Isaac grunted as he fucked Nicholas. “You’ve got a nice ass, Nicholas.”

“Th-thanks…” Nicholas wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but Isaac was nice so he took it as once.

Isaac let out a breath and pulled all the way out of Nicholas for a second, readjusting him before driving back in all at once. And hitting that spot again inside Nicholas, making Nicholas yelp. He could practically picture Isaac’s smirk, and as Isaac started hitting that spot over and over, Nicholas found it was practically all he could picture. He was hot, so hot, all over and he was about to…

Nicholas came with a loud shout into the pillow, bucking his hips as he shot all over Isaac’s bed. He was quite sure he’d have cum even without Isaac’s hand on him, honestly.

He was starting to understand why Isaac liked this so much.

Isaac kept fucking Nicholas after he’d cum, giving a few more hard thrusts before doubling over, kissing Nicholas’s shoulder and shooting inside him with a grunt. “Oh, wow…”

Nicholas sort of collapsed forward, not able to stay on his knees anymore. He flopped down in his own mess, and Isaac came with him, the jolt driving him deep inside Nicholas in a movement that had them both making noise.

They lay there for a second and then Isaac pulled out, laying on his belly beside Nicholas. He kissed Nicholas on the cheek. “So, how was it?”

Nicholas was still catching his breath. His ass was sore, and felt empty and warm and sticky. “You shot inside me.”

“Yeah. I wanted you to get the full treatment.”

Nicholas chuckled. “I…I liked it,” he admitted. “I like topping better. But I could see visiting the world of bottoms every now and then.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Isaac giggled. “You know I never thought you’d even want to try this.”

Nicholas smiled, leaning over and kissing Isaac on the cheek, just for fun. “What can I say? You’re a terrible influence.”


	66. Aaron/Seth, Last Time/End of the World (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two guys who know their future share their last night together. 
> 
> I was so happy to get this prompt, seriously. I love these two so much.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/10/the-52-prompt-made-me-think-of-aaron-and-seth/): "The #52 [Last Time/End of the World]prompt made me think of Aaron and Seth, would it have happened? I don't know much about them but unrequited love makes me deeply sad," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Neither of them could sleep. They were laying in their tent beside each other, staring up at the canvas. They’d have been better walking through the night. But here they were, quiet. Suffocating in what they knew was coming.

“I can’t…” Seth whispered suddenly, shifting. “Aaron, you awake?”

“Yeah.”

Seth rolled over, onto his side, and then more, on top of Aaron before Aaron could stop him, looking down at Aaron. The air inside the tent was glowing, the proximity to the tower casting light through the fabric.

“What are you doing?”

“I…” Seth looked pained. His bare chest was covered in scars. “We’re going to die tomorrow.”

Aaron looked up at him, made himself smile. “Yeah.”

It was what they’d chosen.

“You said…” Seth swallowed air, exhaled. “You never said anything to me because you didn’t want to push me away. You didn’t want to…ruin our friendship.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said, nodding. He’d been scared. Seth was his best friend.

“We’re doing to die,” Seth said, insistent. And he leaned down and kissed Aaron on the mouth. “Let’s ruin our friendship.”

Aaron wanted to. It was a bad idea. Seth didn’t really feel that way about him, he was sure. Seth liked girls, he’d liked Amy. He was saying that because he’d liked Aaron’s sister. He was saying that because they didn’t have to live with each other after this. He didn’t want to spend his last night alone.

Aaron wanted to. It was a bad idea.

They were going to die anyway, and Aaron didn’t want to spend his last night looking up at the tent canvas either.

“Okay,” Aaron said, putting his arms around Seth, and kissing him back. They kissed for a while, a good while, moving against each other. Aaron was hard in his breeches but before it could become a problem, Seth was reaching down, fishing him out of there, pulling Aaron’s clothes down. Aaron gasped as Seth’s hand wrapped around him, warm and tight, rough and calloused from holding a sword all his life.

Seth kissed Aaron hungrily, possessively and inexpertly, and Aaron kissed him back in exactly the same way. Aaron had loved Seth for so long. So long. And Seth was probably just doing this because Aaron was here and they were going to die. But Aaron didn’t care. He wanted it, had wanted it for a while.

Aaron wasn’t even surprised when he came, making a pitiful noise and a mess on Seth’s hand all at once.

Seth let go of him, looking down at Aaron with eyes heavy. He glanced at his hand. “I want to…”

Aaron nodded before he could even finish, and Seth kissed him again, reaching down and finding Aaron’s hole, having enough sense to stick his cum-stained fingers inside Aaron to stretch him, but not enough sense to do it slowly, gently. Aaron didn’t care. They were running out of time, and this was their last chance. He didn’t care if it stung.

Aaron reached down, pulled his pants down as Seth fingered him, bringing one leg nearly up to his shoulder to get his leg out of the hole and then spreading his legs to give Seth the access he needed. With his hands free, he started to liberate Seth from his clothes as well.

When he got Seth’s pants down to his thighs, enough that his boner sprung up to his belly, Seth pulled his fingers out. “I’m going to do it.”

“Yeah. Do it.”

Aaron braced himself as Seth grabbed his dick, pointed it at Aaron’s hole and pressed it in, slowly. It hurt. It had never hurt when Aaron had pictured it in his mind with his hand for companion, often when Seth was snoring nearby. It hurt and it spoke of desperation, insistence.

Seth pressed into Aaron, kissing him hungrily again, hands on Aaron’s sides as he drove in, gasping when he hit full hilt. And then Seth started thrusting, awkward, uncoordinated, for all the world like he was doing what he’d heard was the thing to do. It still hurt but Aaron didn’t care, he wrapped his arms around Seth’s chest, his legs around Seth’s thighs, and let Seth fuck him, grunting and groaning and kissing Aaron over and over as if to make up for all the years of not kissing him at all.

Seth’s thrusts picked up suddenly, getting harder, faster, and Seth came inside Aaron, shouting a sound that Aaron swallowed, hands moving up to Aaron’s shoulders as he rammed into Aaron.

When he was done, he collapsed a little, breaking away from Aaron’s lips, breath falling on Aaron’s neck. Aaron could see stars as he looked up, still holding Seth in place. “Did…did you like it?” Seth asked after a minute.

“Yeah,” Aaron said, nodding. He felt a tear threatening to collect in his eye. “Yeah, I did.”

“You didn’t…” Seth reached down, hand on Aaron’s dick again.

“It’s okay,” Aaron whispered. “It’s fine.”

“No,” Seth said, shaking his head. “I want you to like it. You deserve it.”

“I do like it, Seth,” Aaron promised. “I do.”

“I’m going to do it again,” Seth said, kissing Aaron, squeezing his dick. “Properly this time. You’re going to like it.” His voice was quivering. He was crying. “You’re going to like it. I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you too, Seth,” Aaron said, crying a little himself. “I love you too.”

“You’re buzzing so much,” Seth whispered.

“I know. Sorry.”

“I wish you’d told me.”

“What would you have done?”

“I don’t know.” Seth lifted his head, looking down at Aaron. “You’re going to like it this time. I love you.” And, as he started moving again, more slowly and carefully, he kissed Aaron like that was true.

They were going to die anyway. With his arms and legs wrapped around Seth, Aaron kissed him back and pretended it was true.


	67. Aaron/Seth, Last Time redux (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sort-of continuation of the previous chapter, featuring the very last moments that I'm willing to show for the two of them. :)

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/10/inspired-by-the-last-drabble-do-you-think-you/): "Inspired by the last drabble, do you think you could do a Last Time one specifically for one (or both) of the characters being executed shortly after?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Up close, the tower was so bright it hurt Aaron’s eyes, it hurt all of his senses. 

They stood about five feet from the top of the hill, looking up at it. There was no door, no obvious way in. But Aaron knew how to get in. They were outfitted for battle, a mockery. Seth was in his armour, his helmet, sword sharpened and ready. Aaron’s armour was lighter, slightly less battered except for the scorch marks that Seth didn’t have. Underneath one scorch on the left breast was an engraved spider. The same as the one on the metal brace on his right wrist, which clung to a number that didn’t mean anything anymore.

Aaron could feel his entire body buzzing like it wanted to explode.

He took a step forward. Seth reached out and grabbed his hand. “Aaron.”

“What?” Aaron turned, faced Seth, who leaned up and kissed him.

Aaron couldn’t help himself. He kissed Seth back, gently. Gently, which turned into not as gently, and their arms were around each other, holding each other in place. Seth’s tongue found its way into Aaron’s mouth, and Aaron slid his hand down and fumbled around with Seth’s belt, lifting chainmail and slipping a buzzing hand inside Seth’s pants. 

Seth had an easier time getting his hand in Aaron’s, and the next few minutes were quick, frantic, lasting forever and not taking any time at all. They just kissed, and touched each other like they were the only people in the world, the only things that mattered. Like they loved each other and were about to have a normal day, like this was just the first of many times they’d do this. 

Seth came first, wrapping his arm tighter around Aaron as he stained his pants, hand tightening around Aaron’s dick as he did, jerking him hard. Aaron came with a pitiful whinge, filling his own pants as he panted into Seth’s mouth.

They kissed for a good long minute after that, communicating without words. Then Aaron pulled away, flushed in the face, and let Seth go. He wanted to just have this, forever. He wanted to go away, to leave, to just live somewhere with Seth.

But he couldn’t have that. The Web buzzed around him. “Let’s go,” he whispered.

“Yeah.”

They fixed their clothes, turned back to the tower, started back up the hill. “When we get in there let me do the talking,” Aaron told Seth, preparing himself to draw on the Web for the last time.

“I’m not hiding behind you.”

“I didn’t say that. Just don’t charge forward without me.”

Seth looked at him. “I won’t go anywhere without you.”

“Okay.” Aaron smiled, reaching his hand out as they reached the base of the tower, feeling its power, connecting to it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The bright light the tower emitted had drowned out everything else. Aaron couldn’t see Seth anymore. But it didn’t matter. He knew he was there, with him, until the end.


	68. Isaac, A/B/O (slightly nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Isaac having a slightly embarrassing moment that works out pretty alright for him in the end.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/19/from-that-promptkink-list-1-involving-isaac-and/): "From that prompt/kink list: 1 [A/B/O], involving Isaac and how partial shifting and the subsequent tails involved seem to occur at the most hilariously inconvenient of times," by folkendefanel, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

Contrary to popular belief, Isaac wasn’t actually horny all the time.

Sure, a good amount of the time. Maybe more than some other people (though Isaac had a feeling that other people just pretended they weren’t most of the time). Maybe half, three quarters of the time, Isaac was in the mood for dick.

But there were times where he wasn’t, honestly.

And the problem with the society they lived in—one of the problems, Isaac could go on for days—was that certain things were associated with some primal desire to cum in something. People did a partial shift for all kinds of reasons, physiologically speaking, many of them not at all dick-related, and almost all of them uncontrollable at times.

Really, it was just immature to laugh when it happened.

“Wow, Isaac, you must have done really well,” Andy said from behind him, poking Isaac’s shoulder and drawing Isaac away from his test paper that he’d just been handed back.

“Huh?” Isaac had indeed done quite well, better than he’d thought—the extra half-hour they’d started giving him to accommodate him was really helpful. “Yeah, I did okay. You?”

“Fine.” Andy smiled. “I mean, not ‘popping a tail’ okay, but I’m good.”

“What…” Isaac looked down over his shoulder, saw his fuzzy grey tail, which hadn’t been there a second ago. Wagging back and forth aggressively, even. “Fuck, whatever,” he muttered, blushing. Absently, he brought his hand up to his head, pleased to note that at least his damned ears hadn’t come out.

It may have been perfectly normal, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing.

“Just saying,” Andy giggled, as they packed up their stuff. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, but it seems like you and the history test want a little alone time.”

“Perfectly normal thing to have happen,” Isaac grumbled, shoving things into his bag. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure. So are you going to top or bottom for the test? I feel like paper cuts are an issue either way?”

“Oh, my God,” Isaac growled, not meaning to. “Get over it. Nothing to do with sex, I was just excited.”

“Just like you were excited during the basketball game yesterday?”

Isaac rolled his eyes, reached down to adjust his pants, open up the tail slot in the back.

“And during the drunk driving demonstration,” Andy continued, leaning forward. “And during the assembly last week. Oh, and when we had that guest speaker on homelessness? And at lunch yesterday, but I guess pizza is always worth a tail wag. Plus there’s…”

“Do you have nothing better to do than keep track of every time my tail shows up?” Isaac asked. At least two of those had been because of horniness, to be fair. And fortunately Andy didn’t know about his great-aunt’s funeral, or the fancy town council party, or the pride march or the doctor’s office or the mall when he’d been buying shirts or the movie theatre or the…

Maybe Isaac had a bit of a problem.

“Well…” Andy stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at the ceiling as they headed out of the room. “I mean, I was thinking I’d invite you over for a twin sandwich after school, but if the tail wagging doesn’t mean anything and you’re not in the mood…”

“Hey,” Isaac said, nodding with vigour. “Just because it doesn’t mean anything now doesn’t mean it won’t later. I’ll be there.”

He was always down for a twin sandwich, and he didn’t have any plans today.

“Cool.” Andy smiled. “See you then. You have Health class next—you might want to put that guy away before you walk in there or you’ll get used as a demonstration.”

“Fuck…” Isaac sighed. Andy wasn’t totally wrong. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Uh-huh,” Andy said, tugging Isaac’s tail. “I don’t mind a little fur in my sandwich.”

“Shut up,” Isaac grumbled.

“Goes well with the cream filling.”

As Isaac tried not to turn red—honestly, as if the prospect of sex embarrassed him—Andy laughed, headed off for class and left Isaac standing there in the hallway. Tail wagging like crazy for everyone to see. 

Contrary to popular belief, Isaac wasn’t actually horny all the time. But it sure as hell wasn’t hard to get him there.


	69. Owen/Gavin, Winter Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came across the art challenge called [Magic Meat March](https://twitter.com/MagicMeatMarch) on Tumblr the other day and though I'm not an artist, I just really wanted to participate, so I wrote a thing and will likely write a few more things. Enjoy Owen and Gavin shopping for weather-appropriate clothes.

“If we’re going to fight a winter wizard, we’re going to need better gear,” Gavin said, leading Owen into the shop.

Owen nodded. “This is a bit chilly in this weather,” he agreed, tapping on the steel codpiece he wore, painted red like his boots, gauntlets and shoulder guards. Hands clasped behind his head to show off his chest, Owen looked around the shop.

Gavin cocked his hips, hand on one of them as he licked his lips, considering. His knee-high boots, gloves and the strap for his pack that ran across his bare chest were all the same supple leather as his shorts, snug and using as little fabric as possible to let him move quickly and quietly in a fight.

“Can I help you two gentlemen with something?” The proprietor, an older lady in layers of fur, approached them with a smile. “My, aren’t you both handsome?”

Gavin gave her a coy smile. “So they tell us, ma’am. We need winter gear, preferably something that might defend us against ice magic.”

“Ah,” the shopkeep nodded. “Yes, you two’ll freeze dressed like that. I’ve just the thing, come.”

She led them down to the back of the shop, past racks of heavy-looking armour for women, taking up a lot of space just because of how big and complex they were to put on. Owen was grateful that he didn’t have to muck around with all that. He was nervous enough as it was that adding winter protection to his armour would make problems for him in fighting.

Finally, at the back of the store, she pointed them towards the wall of real clothes. “For ice, I’d suggest this for you,” she said pointing out one outfit to Gavin. “And for your big friend, something more like this one.”

Gavin nodded, touching some of the material and considering. He pointed at the one she’d selected for Owen, which Owen liked the looks of more than he’d figured he would. “Do you have a red one? He has this theme going.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Why don’t you two head into the back to change and I’ll bring them back to you?”

Gavin nodded, pulling Owen into the back room, where he smiled. “See, it’ll be fine.”

“We’ll see after I’ve tried it on,” Owen said, arms crossed. “If I have to fight in it, it has to be comfortable.”

“Let’s try things on, then.”

By the time they stepped out of the back room twenty minutes later, Owen was sold. The shoulder armour on the winter gear hugged him more closely and didn’t pinch as much as his old armour, the new gauntlets were strong but without being too heavy, his new boots left more of his calves free to breathe when he ran, and the new codpiece was less metal against his skin, thinner and easier to move in, holding his junk in place but not too tightly. A chain ran from the bottom of the plate, between his legs and up between his buttcheeks, connecting to the strap in the back, which was far preferable to the uncomfortable plate of metal on the last one that had been just too small to sit on. At least now there was nothing to make a strange imprint on his butt.

Everything on the new armour was lined with fur, so he should be plenty warm in the winter.

Owen stretched out his arms, bent over a few times to touch his toes, did a few squats while Gavin paid. His new boots came just short of his knee and had a bit of a heel to them to give him a boost in height that would be useful for an archer, and also doing great things for his bare thighs. Gavin’s gloves were made from fur as well, and he’d gone with a narrower pack strap that crossed his chest between his pectorals and could be easily removed if someone grabbed him. The new shorts were made totally from fur, cut triangularly and stopping a good two inches higher up his thighs, not to mention cut a lot lower on top, the V-line of his pubic bone fully visible.

Gavin said that Owen’s new armour should do its job of distracting the enemy perfectly, but Owen had a feeling that Gavin would be the one stunning them into inaction.

Gavin turned his torso after paying, giving Owen a good look at his chest while keeping his backside on display. “Ready to go?”

“Always,” Owen grinned, arms behind his head again as he and Gavin headed outside to go fight evil and end eternal winter. “I hope you kept the old stuff,” he said, as they stepped out into the wind. “We’re going to be too hot in this once it’s not winter anymore.”

Gavin shrugged. “We’ll figure something out.”

Sure enough, though snow was piled up high and barrels of water were frozen solid, Owen barely felt the cold.

They were wearing fur, after all.


	70. Ron/James, Optimized for Maximal Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to try and give all the major characters the skimpy empowering outfits treatment. There's a prompt list associated with this, but most of them don't work for the series so I'm ignoring it a bit.

“Why do we have to wear these?”

“Because it’s a formal meeting and we need to dress formally.”

“But why is this formalwear?”

“Because it just is, Ron, I’m not going to explain the whole history of clothing to you.”

“Because you don’t know?”

James looked at him, holding out what he expected Ron to wear. Ron looked back, for a whole second before giving in, taking it, looking at it. “I don’t think I can fit in this.”

A small smile. “I think you can pull it off. Or stuff it in, whichever. It’s the expected garment for my attendant.”

With that, James turned around and started stripping out of his regular clothes, preparing to dress in his formalwear laid out on the bed.

“All I’m saying,” Ron said, still contemplating the—very small—piece of fabric in his hand. “Is that I don’t understand why formalwear has to be so…revealing.”

“It’s more than you normally wear,” James said, picking up his tight shorts and stepping into them.

“I know, I know, just…” Ron gestured at James as he sucked in his belly, strained a little to fit into the shorts, which left a pronounced bulge in the front when he got them on properly. James took a moment to adjust himself. “Why can’t you wear more than that?”

“I’ll be wearing my coat,” James said, waving at it. Aside from the shorts and his moccasins, it was the only thing he’d be wearing to the meeting.

“But…”

James sighed. “It’s because I’m a witch. Having my skin exposed to nature lets me be in closer contact with it. I get my powers from nature, remember? Showing a lot of skin makes me more powerful, and that’s important at a formal event.”

“But…” Ron made a vague gesture. “Your cousin doesn’t dress like that. Your aunt doesn’t. Your grandmother doesn’t.”

“Do you want my grandmother to wear short shorts?”

“That’s not the point!”

James smiled, patted Ron on the shoulder. “I think the point is that you’re nervous. Don’t be—it’s empowering.”

Ron sighed now. “I guess,” he conceded. As James turned away to pull his long coat on, Ron bent over and slipped into the tiny scrap of fabric, a little sling of black cotton for his junk to live in, held up by a thin waistband. Ron would be more covered by putting on a pair of socks.

It was too small, and Ron had to do a lot of creative stuffing and squishing to get everything to stay in without causing a malfunction. When he was finally done, he looked up at James, smiled.

James had sat down on the bed, one leg drawn up to his chest, arms around his knee as he leaned forward a little. “There. See, you look all sexy, doesn’t that feel good?”

Ron nodded, admitting to himself that it did. “It does make me feel pretty empowered.” He looked down at himself, flexing a little. He looked pretty good.

“Me too,” James said. “Literally and figuratively.” He stood, his shorts inching down a bit as he moved. Since they only had about an inch and a half of leeway, it was quite something to watch. “Come on, let’s go be formal.”

“Alright, alright,” Ron smiled, followed James out of the room. The strip of fabric in the back was already working itself into a wedgie, and Ron picked at it a little.

Ron sure did feel powerful, but he’d be happy when he could get out of it. He wasn’t made for formalwear.


	71. Cal/Wes/Mick/Sully, Dressing the Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a prompt list for this, which I'm not following super a lot, but I try when I can. Today it was sexy comic/manga covers. :)

“You can’t go in like that,” Cal said, watching Sully get ready.

“What?” Sully looked down at himself. “Like what?”

“You’re not dressed for work.” They were going in to raid an abandoned fortress for a dangerous artefact that was in there, and were suiting up as they spoke, except for Sully, who was just standing there in his ratty old clothes.

“I don’t have other clothes, dumbass,” Sully muttered. As they all changed, he’d been doing a very good job of keeping his eyes away.

“Yeah you do, I put them in your bag ages ago.” Cal shook his head, a bit exasperated. “Didn’t you notice?”

“What?” Sully frowned, looked in his bag for a minute, coming up with the clothes. “Don’t fucking sneak shit into my stuff.”

“Just get dressed,” Cal said, shaking his head as he tied his loincloth. “We don’t have all night.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sully gave a dramatic sigh and started stripping out of his worn old shirt, his baggy shorts, and pulling on the work clothes Cal had bought him.

As Sully dressed, Cal checked to see if the others were ready. Wes had finished coating his bare chest in protective oil so his muscles gleaned him the lamplight, and was just tying the strap on his large steel codpiece that he’d pull tight pants up over, giving the impression of girth and hardness that was meant to intimidate the enemy. Cal knew for a fact that it wasn’t just an impression and that Wes mostly filled that thing out, but they could hardly have him going into battle unprotected. He grinned at Cal as he reached for the pants, patting the codpiece as if in invitation.

Cal smiled back and turned to Mick, who had finished tying the typical mage’s gear of a long strip of fabric, starting around the neck, crossing to cover the nipples, crossing again in the back to cover the butt and coming up between the legs to hold the junk in place. The patterns of the fabric enhanced his powers, but ever modest, Mick was wearing a pair of triangle-cut smallclothes underneath the wrap. The reduced amount of the power stole that touched his skin meant he’d sacrifice a little power, but Mick felt just a little too naked without the shorts—and he made up for it anyway with glowing blue warpaint across his muscled chest and arms. He smiled shyly at Cal.

For himself, Cal was wearing his usual short coat, arms covered by the tight sleeves and chest mostly covered except where the low neckline left a lot of space before the single button keeping it in place. His midriff was bare and he was wearing his sword belt above his loincloth, tied tightly so it wouldn’t get in the way of work. His short boots were held up with straps tied to garters on his thighs. “Ready, Sully?” Cal asked, winking at Mick.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sully had pulled on the tights Cal had bought him, which were a tad small and left nothing to the imagination, especially not with that low cut. On his chest he wore an open vest with nothing underneath, and his arms bore a few leather straps with pouches on them. Standard gear for a thief, nothing too fancy. Cal figured he could customize himself later if he wanted something a little better—it was kind of a lot of fabric for someone who had to move quietly. “This is…better than my old clothes, for stealing. Thanks.”

“Can’t have a teammate going out not properly dressed.” Cal smiled, dropping into a near-split to stretch out his legs while Wes picked up his axe, the way he was leaning forward really highlighting how nicely the tight pants fit his backside as it stuck out a little. Mick was stretching, leaning back a little. Sully came over and joined them, stance wide as he stood with his hands linked behind his head, for all the world like he’d always been part of their team.

Cal was struck with a thought for just a moment that together, the four of them looked like they should be on the cover of one of those novels about adventurers who saved the world, or something.

“Alright,” Cal said to his team, pumped now. “Let’s go break and enter, and not necessarily in that order.”


	72. Isaac, Uniform Policy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naturally, Isaac is totally okay living in a world where skimpy clothes are the norm.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“There is no rest of it,” Yancy told them. “These are the training uniforms. Please change into them and meet me in the classroom immediately.”

And with that, Yancy left, obviously just expecting them all to figure out how a long sash was a uniform or indeed, an outfit at all.

“Hm.” Isaac looked at it, amused. Maybe he was supposed to tie it around his waist? Or like, over one shoulder and in between his legs?

“This is silly,” Nicholas insisted, picking one up. “They told us this was an upgrade. This isn’t even clothes. How are we supposed to wear it? What’s it supposed to cover?”

Isaac shrugged. They had indeed been informed that they were far enough along in their training to wear the proper mage attire. “Well, there’s an obvious first step,” he said, quickly taking off his clothes. “Now we just have to figure out the…”

He picked up his sash as he spoke, and it glowed, the black fabric alighting with blue and red symbols all down its length. And it jumped on Isaac, ignoring his yelp. While the other guys all laughed at him, Isaac tried to fight off the sash, but it was merciless. It wound around his neck, then down across his chest in an X, then around his back, making another X over his butt. The two ends came up between his legs, merging together to cover his dick, and then the whole thing just…adhered to him. It stayed in place without him having to do anything, no matter how much Isaac moved around, trying to get a better look. “Oh,” he said, looking down at himself. It wasn’t even uncomfortable, it felt like wearing nothing. Which Isaac could get behind. “That’s not so bad, then.”

Following his lead, a few of the other guys stripped out of their clothes too, letting the magic sashes latch on to them and do the same. Once they were sure it was safe, the rest of the class followed suit, and soon they were adequately dressed. Or at least dressed. “I feel naked,” Nicholas complained, picking at the ends of the sash as he tried futility to cover himself with his hands.

“I feel…kind of powerful,” Peter muttered, frowning down at himself. He had turned most of the way over his shoulder to look down at his backside, which in Isaac’s opinion looked even better than usual.

“Me too,” Isaac agreed, and it wasn’t just because the outfit was awesome. He could literally feel magic coursing through him in a way it didn’t normally. He grinned, feeling cocky. Mostly because he was in a room full of barely dressed guys, which always made him feel good. “Come on, let’s get to class.”

In the classroom, Yancy was dressed in a sash like theirs, hairy chest and belly on display. Under his robes, he was buffer than Isaac had expected, though the way he stood with his chest puffed out might have enhanced the illusion a little. Still, Isaac was slightly less enthused about the outfits all of the sudden. Putting an age limit on them wouldn’t be the worst idea ever.

Then again, when he was Yancy’s age Isaac might change his mind about that.

“About time you all stopped dilly-dallying,” Yancy grumped, directing them to join the other half of the class. The girls were all standing there as well, also dressed in their uniforms. Made of similar fabric but much more of it, the girls were dressed mostly in black, barely any skin showing. Their outfits didn’t look as form-fitting, either.

“I want an explanation for this,” Nicholas said, gesturing at the girls. “How come they’re allowed to be dressed?”

“This is the academy’s training uniform,” Yancy informed them, gesturing at himself. “As you are learning magic, you will find it useful. It helps your body channel and control magic. Once you’re fully trained, you may choose not to wear it, but even then it is helpful, take it from me.”

“Okay,” Nicholas said, quite reasonably, nodding. “Awesome. Can I have a girl’s uniform?”

There was some collective laughter at that, though Isaac didn’t approve. There was nothing wrong with wanting to wear a girl’s uniform if that was what made Nicholas comfortable.

Yancy shook his head. “The boys’ and girls’ uniforms are the same material, and the same function, Nicholas.”

“But there’s more fabric…”

“I don’t see the problem,” Bianca said, smiling at Nicholas. “You guys look good, and that’s what matters, right?”

“But…”

Isaac put a hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. “Come on, Nicholas. Don’t be such a prude. Nothing wrong with showing a little skin.” He struck a bit of a pose, hands on the back of his hips and grinning seductively. “See?”

“If you boys are done playing,” Yancy interrupted, bringing their attention back to him. “Let’s begin class. Clear your minds, and feel your power. The uniform will help you if you’re uncertain.”

Feeling powerful, Isaac got to work. He was really liking being a mage.


	73. Isaac/Daniel, First Time (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt and the next one (which were the same prompt) both come from an AU I was prompted to come up with where the characters are all actors on a [TV show.](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/02/22/if-your-series-were-a-television-show-how-would/) So here we have the actors playing Daniel and Isaac getting together in their downtime.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/03/05/i-know-the-prompts-stopped-getting-sent-a-while/): "I know the prompts stopped getting sent a while ago, but can you do first time in the TV show AU with Isaac and Daniel or Sam and Henry?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“I find it really cute that you stopped wearing underwear, you know.”

Isaac blushed, gave Daniel a nervous chuckle as he let Daniel slide his jeans the rest of the way down. “Acting requires dedication,” he said, grinning down at Daniel. “You learned three kinds of martial arts, I gave all my boxer shorts to the Goodwill.”

“The things we do for our characters,” Daniel said, kissing Isaac’s thigh as he got the pants the rest of the way off, leaving Isaac naked underneath him. “Though really, you shouldn’t have given them away. You should have waited until the show got popular, sold them to yours. Preferably without washing them, they’d have paid more that way.”

Isaac’s gut twisted in shyness. “I don’t need to encourage the weirdos,” he said. “Got plenty enough people who want to fuck me without making it worse.”

“Can you blame them?” Daniel asked, climbing up Isaac and hovering over his face, dipping down for a kiss. Isaac kissed back, his shyness replaced mostly with warmth now. He’d waited for that for a while. “Look at you, you’re edible.”

“You going to eat me, then?” Isaac challenged.

“You bet.” Daniel leaned down for another kiss, and this one lasted a lot longer. Isaac put his hands around Daniel, pulling him closer, feeling their bare skin against each other. “God,” Daniel muttered when he stopped for air, nosing Isaac. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

Isaac frowned at him. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?” Isaac had been pursuing Daniel for months. He’d been pretty convinced Daniel only liked him as a friend, given that Daniel had slept with five other people in between now and when Isaac had started using his ill-gotten seduction powers on his teacher. “You’re not shy normally.”

“Cause you’re special,” Daniel said, kissing Isaac again, sliding his hips against Isaac’s. “You’re not a name on a list. I was waiting for you to be ready so you wouldn’t think I was just trying to fuck you.”

“You are trying to fuck me,” Isaac remined him.

“Yeah, but like, with emotions and stuff. It’s different.”

“Aw…” Isaac teased, but that made him genuinely happy. He’d been a bit worried about that. “I like you too, Daniel.”

A chuckle, a kiss. Daniel’s hand reached down, grabbed Isaac, warming him up. “So I’m not just a name on your list either?”

“I don’t have a list.”

Daniel frowned, lifted his head. “You…don’t?”

“No?” Isaac looked up at him. “Should I?”

“Well…no, I just assumed you did. You’re kind of, you know. Flirty. With everyone.” Daniel was flushed now. “I just thought…”

Isaac laughed. “I’m an actor, Daniel. I donated my underwear to charity and started flirting with everyone. I kind of figured that was enough without hounding all the dick in town.”

Daniel blinked. “You…made out with Nicholas at the Emmys!”

That had been mortifying for both of them. “That was a publicity stunt.”

Daniel stared at Isaac now, obviously stunned. “I…thought it was real. It looked real.”

“I’m an actor?”

“A really fucking good one.”

“Tell that to the asshole who won my Emmy.”

“Wow, my life is upside-down suddenly,” Daniel muttered, shaking his head. “Huh. Well then. Not that I mind, I like being part of a more exclusive club.”

Isaac grinned, pulled Daniel back down for another kiss. “You’re the founding member.”

“W-wait, seriously?’ Daniel asked, swallowing. “This is your first time?”

“Yeah,” Isaac smiled. “I’ve faked it enough times that I think I know the basics, though.”

“You should have told me! I’d have made it more romantic and shit instead of making bad dick jokes and wearing my show-themed boxers.”

The show-themed boxers had been kind of hilarious. “What, you’d have made good dick jokes?”

“And worn my silk boxers,” Daniel confirmed. “And bought you dinner at a classy restaurant and had rose petals and a violinist and like, you know, hearts on the ceiling or something.”

“Is that how you lost your virginity?” Isaac asked.

“Well, no, I lost my virginity in the back of my dad’s car in a mall parking lot at three in the morning,” Daniel admitted. “But I…you’re special. I should have made it special.”

He sounded upset, actually. Isaac kissed him again. “It’s special because it’s with you. But if it means that much to you, we can get dressed and have a do-over.”

Isaac was hard and ready to not be a virgin anymore, he didn’t want a do-over, he wanted sex. But he didn’t want Daniel to look unhappy.

“Oh, God,” Daniel said, kissing back. “I don’t deserve you, you’re perfect. You’re really okay with it like this?”

They’d had mac and cheese for supper, Daniel’s cat had sat on Isaac’s lap during _Justice League_ while they’d thumb-wrestled over which of them would get to blow Jason Momoa first (Isaac had let Daniel win, he know how much it meant to him) and now they were about to have sex in Daniel’s bed, which had a lot of pillows in it, something Isaac found breathtakingly cute. “I love it like this, Daniel. Tonight was great.”

Daniel ducked his head a little, taking a breath. When he looked back up, his confident smile was back in place. “Well then. If you’re happy, I’m happy, and I know how to make it even greater.” Hand back on Isaac’s hard-on, he grinned, kissed Isaac’s cheek.

Isaac arched his back a little, already liking Daniel’s hand there. “Show me.”


	74. Henry/Sam, First time (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the same prompt as the last one--I interpreted it as Henry and Sam's actors shooting their first sex scene in the TV show (industrious readers might recognize Sam's dialogue when the cameras are rolling), since the actors are just friends.

“The first time I got caught touching myself,” Sam said as he unlaced Henry’s pants in a practiced motion that didn’t look practiced, “the next day there was a girl in my room.”

Sam touched Henry through his smallclothes idly, playing with him before making to push them down. “Which was very thoughtful of my father, but I was always afraid to tell him that I wanted a boy instead. Ah, fuck, what the hell? Henry!”

Henry couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing as his boner hit Sam in the face. “Sorry,” he managed, meaning it. “Sorry.” Still, he snickered.

“You’re not supposed to be hard! I’m raping you here. Stop liking it!”

“Cut!” The director called, and the cameras pulled back from them a bit.

“Sorry,” Henry called, laying back against the wall. The lights came on and he winced a little as they hit his eyes. “Sorry. I’d say it was my fault, but he’s got a mind of his own.”

“You hit me in the face,” Sam accused, wiping his mouth.

“Hey, I’m chained to a wall. Whose fault is it that his face was in my crotch?” Henry asked.

“Well, I didn’t write the script.”

“Stop screwing around, guys.”

“Yeah, Sam,” Henry said, smirking and giving Sam a gentle kick. “Stop screwing around and get screwing. Also, pull my pants up. It’s weird to just sit here with it all hanging out.”

Sam snorted, but reached over and started to put Henry back in his clothes. “Awfully forward of you since we don’t know each other that well.”

They didn’t, but Sam was already one of Henry’s favourite people after the few weeks of getting read to shoot their first episode together. “Yeah, well, you’re going to be touching my dick on TV for a good while, so we may as well just get used to it, yeah?”

Henry had seen some of the simulated sex the other actors on the show did for their scenes, and they were really realistic, and looked even moreso on screen. He was glad that most of their scenes in this season took place in near-complete darkness because the show didn’t want to have graphic rape in every episode. There was just enough light to get the impression of what was happening, though apparently the planned to completely cut the lights for some of the more intense scenes that would happen later on.

Still, they’d been warned that if the show continued on, their characters would be going at it under the lights just like everyone else someday. No point in worrying about a little contact now, as far as Henry was concerned.

“You say that now, but when I come in your bed at night to sell your bodily fluids on the internet, it’s all ‘no Sam, that’s weird,’” Sam muttered, fitting Henry back into the smallclothes and lacing up the old-timey pants he had on. The costumes department for this show was really top-notch.

“That reminds me, come hang out tonight,” Henry suggested. “We’ll get pizza.”

“Sure. I’ll bring that album I wanted to have you listen to.”

“You two ready to go again?” The director asked.

“Henry’s still boned up,” Sam reported, though he didn’t check. “Give him a minute to pretend he doesn’t love me.”

“But I do!” Henry insisted. “You’re my heart, my soul, my very world, Samson.”

“You’re nothing to me, just a quick lay and some free pizza.”

“Never promised a lay, never promised I was paying for the pizza.”

“Oh, I get how it is. Can we swap out my trick knife with a real one? I think it’s more realistic that way.”

“Well, there goes my boner,” Henry griped.

Sam grinned. “Am I good or what? Hit the lights and let’s go again, I’m ready to get my creep on, and I’m starting to realize how much Henry deserves it.”


	75. Pax/Nate, Under the Costume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme for today was superheroes and I couldn't think of anything good in the main timeline, so here they are as superheroes. Or...super people of varying moral fibres, at least.

“Halt, evildoer.”

Pax didn’t halt in putting diamonds in the pouch on his belt, but he did look up, pulling a bit of a face. “I’m not sure this qualifies as evil,” he said to the mask standing in the doorway. “I mean I’m not building a death ray or trying to enslave the population or making alliances with otherworldly beings or plotting to blow up the sun. This is mischief at best. Also, ‘halt, evildoer?’ Really? It’s not the fifties anymore, you know.”

“Well…” the mask frowned behind his mask, a green bandana tied around his forehead and eyes. It matched his seafoam green coat, spandex stretched across his muscles, V-neck diving down to his navel, exposing the iron medallion he wore that probably gave him his powers. Matching short pants that halted at his knee carried his insignia, a stylized anchor that was emblazoned on his…er, anchor, and looking there made Pax realizing that the pants were even tighter than they looked. A pair of pixie boots brought the ensemble together, along with a cutlass at his hip. “Okay,” the mask—the Swashbuckler, Pax remembered—agreed. “But halt, mischief-maker doesn’t have the same ring to it and also, put those diamonds back so I can take you to jail.”

“Don’t be silly,” Pax said, standing lithely. Not that he was a particularly lithe person, but it was a mindset. “You don’t want to take me to jail.”

“Yes…I do?”

“No, you don’t,” Pax insisted, smiling. “Jail is dangerous and dirty and awful and I’m harmless and charming and don’t deserve it.”

“You’re stealing the…”

“I probably had a hard past, don’t you think?” Pax asked, interrupting. It shouldn’t take long before his power of persuasion kicked in. “I’m probably only stealing because that’s all I was ever raised to do by the evil businessman who raised me after my parents died, and I’m probably just trying to feed orphans and my cat. Look at me, I’m harmless, right? I’m not up to anything that bad.”

“I…guess,” the Swashbuckler agreed, nodding. He was still in his heroic stance, chest jutted out, hands on his hips, chin up. “You shouldn’t steal, though.”

“Yeah, but I will anyway. Besides these diamonds are insured, so it’s not like the owner’s out anything. Come on, move out of my way, give me your wallet and we’ll get out of each other’s hair. You can get back to stopping people from committing navel-themed crimes and I can get back to being all sad and orphaned and stuff.”

“Oh, sure,” the Swashbuckler said, moving out of the doorway and reaching into the back of his pants—how—and taking out his wallet to hand over to Pax.

“Thanks,” Pax said, taking it, taking out all the money and pocketing it before, with a glance at the Swashbuckler’s driver’s license—Nate Seaworthy, he had a whole theme going there—he handed it back.

“No problem. Wow, your costume is just body paint, isn’t it?”

Pax smiled, nodding. “Looking at me, were you? It’s not all body paint, I’ll have you know. You need to improve your observation skills.” To demonstrate, he tapped the small swatch of leather that was adhered over Pax’s groin. He was too modest to go out totally naked, after all. Other that, though, he wore nothing but a special black body paint that formed a protective barrier around him, prevented him from shedding any skin or hair that would give DNA trace, blocked his fingerprints, was totally waterproof and stopped him from being seen on infrared or X-rays.

It was a bit of a bitch to get off, but it saved him having to learn how to sew or deal with leather chafing.

“Oh, no,” the Swashbuckler said, frowning under his mask. “I know who you are. I know you. You’re…Siren, aren’t you? Oh, shit, you’re controlling me right now. Oh, damn.”

Pax frowned, reached up and put a hand on Swashbuckler’s face. “Hey, now. The news gets me all wrong. I’m not controlling anyone. Don’t you think you’d know if I were controlling you?”

“I…maybe?”

“You would, you’re pretty smart.” And pretty hot, now that Pax was looking at him up close. The costume was terrible, but it did good things for his muscles. “My powers don’t control people, silly. I’m just a really good singer.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, really,” Pax lied. He ran his hand down the Swashbuckler’s chest now, all the way to his navel, where he stopped. The mask was starting to grow a bit of a problem in his hot pants there, but that wasn’t Pax’s power either. “I’m going to go now. Please don’t tell anyone you saw me?”

“Um, okay?”

“Thanks. Oh—I liked your costume better back when you were First Matey,” Pax added, because he had. “You should think about going back to the briefs, the cameras would love your thighs now that you’re all grown up.”

A blush. “I’ll…think about it.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you around, Swashbuckler.”

“See you around, Siren.”

Not if Pax had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t.

As Pax walked past him and out onto the balcony, Swashbuckler called after him. “I like your new costume! The leather pants before looked uncomfortable.”

“They were,” Pax confirmed, preparing to climb to the roof, lifting one leg nearly to his head to get onto his rope ladder.

“You have a cute butt—and a cute everything else.”

Blushing under his paint, Pax blinked at the Swashbuckler, took in his costume again. “You might want to put that anchor away before you sink,” he muttered, not sure what else to say. No, he could think of one thing. “You’re pretty cute too, Nate. Don’t tell anyone you saw me and maybe we’ll chat again.”

And, not sure what he’d been thinking, Pax raced up to the roof and disappeared into the night.


	76. Edwin, How to Power up a Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompt was 'strange game mechanics' so I gave Edwin video game armour that makes him level up under the right circumstances. :)

“Isn’t this kind of…a lot of armour?”

“It’s training armour,” Erik told him, as Edwin finished strapping himself in.

“Right,” Edwin nodded, getting the last of it in place and looking at himself in the mirror. His shoulders were covered entirely, and from there the armour went down his sides, leaving open space across his chest so as not to impede his breathing, and meeting in the middle halfway down his belly, where the armour ran down in a straight line fitting between his legs in a cup that held him very firmly in place, and then stopping. Aside from the straps around his waist, his shoulders, there was nothing on Edwin’s back, nothing on his legs but metal boots, nothing on his arms.

Edwin flexed a few times in the mirror, deciding if he liked it. Not that it mattered whether he liked it, since it was his armour now.

Still, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Erik’s, which didn’t have the plate running down the sides, just the shoulder pieces and the steel below the belly and the cup. Someday Edwin would dress like a proper knight.

“If you’re done admiring yourself,” Erik said, heading for the door.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Edwin muttered, flinching a little when Erik gave him a friendly slap on the ass on the way by. “Hey.”

“Good for you. Powers the armour.”

“What?” Edwin asked, following him out into the hall as they headed for the training yard.

Erik smiled. “The armour’s magic, or it’s got some magic in it. Makes you faster, stronger, all that jazz. But you have to help power it up.”

“With…a slap on the butt?” Edwin asked, not sure he was buying that. He did feel a bit lighter.

“Among other things,” Erik said with a shrug, leading Edwin out into the training yard.

There, Edwin joined his friends and looked out at the other knights. “Do you ever feel really overdressed?” he asked.

Ty was touching his toes and looked up at Edwin as he came over. “Don’t even get me started. How are we supposed to move in this?”

“Once we get better they’ll upgrade us,” Leo said, on the ground doing the splits. Edwin sat with them to stretch too. “Can’t have us getting stabbed before we’re fully trained.”

“At least not in the bad way,” Ty added, giving Leo a pinch. “Useful that there’s nothing back here.”

As he reached behind his head, doing his own stretches, Edwin frowned, looked down at his armour. It was really snug, had had no give in a few vital places.

And that was when Edwin figured it out. The armour didn’t get powered by the slap on the butt. It was powered by Edwin’s reaction to that, which was…going to be extremely limited as long as he was wearing it.

They’d been given armour that fed on sexual frustration.

“Oh, boy,” Edwin said, leaning back and looking up at the sky. There was nothing to be done about it. Just had to prepare himself for the inevitable. At least he’d get a lot stronger. “This is going to suck.”


	77. Sam, The King's New Clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have Sam, rocking his evil king outfit.

Sam didn’t give a damn about appearances, but he’d been told repeatedly that they were important, so for his first public appearance as king, Sam dressed the part.

He liked the idea of the boots more than the boots themselves. Hitting his mid-thigh, they’d been a pain to sit through the lacing of, and the two-inch lift on them seemed like a good idea to give him an imposing height, but just made him feel wobbly when he walked in them, and hurt his feet a little. He knew he’d feel powerful once he figured out how to move without feeling like he was going to fall over. And maybe once he’d found a way around this little chafing problem. he had up at the tops. They were going to need to be lined with something softer.

The velvet shorts he was wearing were so short they needed a more hyperbolic word. Really they were a pouch for the royal package and not much else, but being a tiny piece of fabric away from exposure made it clear that Sam had nothing to fear, so he wore them proudly. He wasn’t afraid of anything. They could look all they wanted.

There were belts criss-crossing his chest. Sam wasn’t sure what the point of those were, and they itched against his bare skin, but he tolerated them for the effect they would give. The leather gloves were studded down the backs of his hands and had pointed fingertips that gave the impression he had claws. He wondered if they were sharp enough to cut skin.

The coat, now Sam like the coat. Sam never wanted to wear anything but this coat. Sweeping on the floor behind him, the coat was heavy and made of smooth leather that Sam liked running his fingers over. It whispered when he moved, gliding through the air on his body. He’d take the whole rest of the ensemble off and just wear the coat, but apparently that would send the wrong message.

People who could see were really too stupid to live if they thought that the way a person looked defined what they could do.

But since there were more of them than there were of Sam, he played their game, dressed like a king.

There was a whip clipped to the side of the coat, which Sam hoped he could use someday. Just because it seemed fun, even though his magic was just so much more practical.

Sam stalked back and forth across his room a few times to get a sense of how to walk in all this. When he was ready, he had Henry escort him to the throne room. He hadn’t gotten much of a sense of Henry’s attire from touching it, but it seemed to be mostly a lot of leather straps, many of which were connected to the collar on his neck, so Sam approved. He didn’t care anyway.

The doors to the throne room were pushed open—both of them, kings didn’t go in only one door—and Sam strode down the length of the room, liking the hush that fell, the fact that his boots clicking on the floor was the only sound. There had been a carpet before that had been torn up in the battle, but Sam was going to tell them not to replace it.

Hips swaying back and forth as he strutted, Sam smirked. Yes, this felt good. This had been a good decision after all.

Sam knew the length of this room just fine. When he reached the dais, he ascended, then turned, letting the coat turn with him in a way that had it flaring out behind him for a moment before he sat, crossing one leg over his knee as he waited. A moment later, someone put the crown on his head, and Sam leaned against the arm of the throne, resting on his elbow.

To the people arrayed in front of him, Sam smirked and said, “Kneel for your king.”


	78. Theodore, High Society, High Fashion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to put Daniel in something skimpy for consent reasons (plus his usual outfits are skimpy anyway), so here's Theodore doing fashion instead.

Sitting on the bed in his long shirt as Theodore finished dressing, Daniel was profoundly grateful that he didn’t have to go to fancy rich person parties, because just helping Theodore dress for his had been exhausting.

The only solid piece of fabric Theodore was wearing was a sleeve between his legs, held in place by a thin string tied around each thigh. The sleeve was folded in on itself a little for some extra fabric—both to give the illusion of greater girth and to provide more room if some anatomical thing happened that required it.

After that, Theodore’s outfit had consisted of nothing but sheer pieces of fabric that had been hard to handle without tearing and had to be harder to wear. He had bracelets and rings on his arms and hands, covered by a thing layer of white that hid nothing on each arm. A second layer covered that, a wrap that went around his back. A tunic of a different, darker but still sheer, fabric covered his chest.

What Daniel supposed could be called pants was three different pieces of clothing. One stocking for each leg, very tight and in danger of tearing with every movement, and what Daniel could only think of as a skirt wrapped around the waist, a greenish fabric that may as well have not been there but gave the impression that Theodore was dressed. He wore soft slippers on his feet but no other protection.

“You keep staring, Daniel.”

Daniel smiled, looking up at Theodore. “I’m sorry, Master. I’ve never seen clothes like this before.”

A chuckle. “No doubt. A holdover from a time when people of status just couldn’t gather without someone getting killed.” Theodore held out his arms. “There is simply no way to hide a knife in all this, now is there?”

Daniel had to admit, even he wouldn’t be able to sneak a weapon anywhere dressed like that.

“And of course, I can’t wear any armour, indicating that I feel perfectly safe in my host’s home,” Theodore added.

“Do you?”

“No, but that’s what guards are for. Finally, the fabric is very expensive and difficult to keep intact, so only wealthy people can wear it. Status symbol and political statement all in one.”

“I didn’t know clothes were so complicated.” All Daniel knew was that Theodore was wearing a see-through outfit out in public, and it was apparently necessary and important that he did. Go figure.

“I shall teach you about the politics of clothing sometime,” Theodore said, looking himself over one last time in the mirror. “Remind me when I get back to tell you about the masquerade balls of old, where men were masks and nothing else.”

Daniel smiled. “Was there a good reason for that?”

“What better way to show you have nothing to hide?” Theodore smiled. “I shall go now. Don’t stay awake, I’ll be quite late.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Master.”

“Goodnight, Daniel.”

In a swish of sheer fabric, Theodore turned to leave the room. Daniel watched him go, thinking that the whole lot of fabric he was wearing somehow managed to show more than if he’d just been in nothing at all.


	79. Wally, Hiding in Plain Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was guys with animal ears and tails, so instead of sticking ears on one of the characters, I instead took the opportunity to introduce a new character who I think you guys will like. So here's Wally.

Wally loved the Night of Spirits. It was a dusk-to-dawn carnival of music and lights and drinking and Wally wasn’t really in to any of those things normally. But this was a festival, it was fun, and Wally got to dress up, or dress down, as it were.

When else could Wally go outside and mingle with everyone in town wearing fuzzy dog ears on his head, wagging a furry tail behind him as he moved through the crowd, rubbing against people in the crowded streets? With those and the fur on his forearms and calves, the grey animal pelt belted around his waist, Wally didn’t need anything else because he looked the part of the werewolf and nobody expected werewolves to wear pants.

Not that almost anyone wore pants on the Night of Spirits—everyone was dressed up in some costume, which usually entailed a little clothing as people could get away with. Some very drunk and confident people even found they could get away with none when they tried hard enough, though Wally would need to have some drinks before he got that confident too. For now, the animal pelt—which was just a small fox fur, its head directly in the center of Wally’s pelvis, covering only the bare minimum for public decency—was his friend.

Ideally, Wally would find someone to be his replacement friend for the night, and then he could do his favourite party trick of opening the fox’s mouth to reveal the prize inside.

Wally danced for a while with two guys dressed as old-time warriors in leather thongs, nipple piercings and war paint, but they got distracted by someone much more confident than Wally in green body paint. Then he shared a drink with someone in a cape of feathers, but the guy fell asleep before Wally could ask for a look under the cape.

Rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand, Wally wasn’t discouraged. There were plenty of people here having fun.

“Nice ears!”

Wally turned, grinning toothily at the guy who’d approached him, a dark-haired guy who also had wolf ears on his head, though his were obviously held on by the string tied around his chin. He also wore fur on his arms and legs, some on his chest and around his waist, a limp tail sticking out at the back of his pelt.

“Thanks,” Wally told him, grinning. The guy had gone full werewolf for his look, he even had fake paws on his feet and a dog nose on his face. “I like your nose.”

That got him a grin. “How are they staying on? How’d you get them to look so real?” The guy pressed closer to Wally, sharing his space.

They looked so real because Wally wasn’t dressed up. The Night of Spirits was the one night when he didn’t have to dress up, in fact. Dress up as a human. “Family secret,” he said, letting his fangs show.

“Aw, come on,” they guy said, patting Wally’s chest. Wally resisted the urge to lay back on his belly with his arms and legs in the air, asking for more rubs. “Us werewolves have to stick together!”

He even howled for good measure.

Wally howled with him—instinct—and then laughed. “Tell you what,” he said, putting an arm around his new friend and pulling him towards the nearest bar. “Buy me some drinks and I’ll think about it.”

Wally loved the Night of Spirits.


	80. Travis/Joey, Compromise Is Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monster boys day! So here is everyone's favourite clothes-hating dragon.

“I’m not wearing clothes,” Joey insisted.

“You have to,” Travis told him, holding up a small pair of shorts. “Just this, that’s all. It’s not so bad.”

“It’s stupid.” Joey crossed his arms and looked away. “People all look the same naked, why do I have to hide?”

“Because you just do!” Travis insisted. “Joey, you can’t just be out there swinging around for everyone to see. You need to wear something.”

Travis was wearing something. A shirt of light chainmail, sleeveless and with a low-hanging neck that let a decent amount of his chest breathe, it came down to just his thighs, keeping hidden everything that was supposed to be hidden, though every once in a while the wrong swinging angle and the wrong shifting of the chain would make possible a little peek, just a little.

Travis couldn’t afford other clothes and it was too hot for them anyway. “Just this,” he said, holding up the little shorts that were too small for him.

“No,” Joey insisted, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t wear that either. You should just go the way you want to. You’ll be happier.”

“I’ll also be in trouble,” Travis insisted. “And I’ll have people staring at me all the time.”

“And you think those shorts will stop people staring at me?” Joey asked, tilting his head forward a bit. His horns were pretty obvious, curling over his head. As he spoke, his scaled dragon tail swished back and forth agitatedly. “I think they’ve got better things to look at than what’s between my legs, Travis.”

“I know,” Travis said, tone pleading. “But this is just how it works, Joey. Please, you have to cover up at least a little. It’s not that I want you to. It’s just that that’s how the world works.”

They had a staring contest for a good minute, and Travis started to irrationally wonder if dragons blinked. Had he ever seen Joey blink? He couldn’t remember.

But Joey sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll cover up the parts that humans are so afraid to see.”

“Thank you,” Travis said, holding out the shorts. He was relieved.

Joey shook his head again. “I’m not wearing those.”

“Then what…” Travis was getting a headache.

Joey smiled, and lifted his tail. He wrapped it halfway around his waist before wending it between his legs, then around one thigh to keep it there. When he was done, his junk was hidden behind his tail, his commitment to modesty beyond reproach. He stood there with his arms crossed, leaning a little to one side, and smirked at Travis. “There. Hidden enough for you and the rest of human society?”

Travis looked at Joey carefully, walked around him in a circle. It was possible to see a bit of him from the back if he looked, but that was the fault of anyone looking, now wasn’t it? When he got back to the front, he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Fine. As long as you can keep your tail like that, you’re fine.”

“Good,” Joey said, smiling normally now. “Human conventions are stupid.”

“I know.”

With a sigh, Joey shook his head. “Come on, then, let’s go so I can see this stupidly modest society of yours myself.”


	81. Franz, Alien Customs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my partner for coming up with the idea of an outfit held up by an erection to parallel the idea of a ladies' outfit held up by the boobs that we've all seen too often.

“Are we sure,” Franz asked, trying as hard as he could to hold still, “that the north is a real place? On our world? Have I accidentally gotten engaged to a princess from another planet?”

“We’re pretty sure we’re still on the same world, yes,” Boey deadpanned, clipping part of Franz’s outfit in place. “Hold still.”

“I’m holding still.”

“You’re fidgeting and it’s making this harder.”

Franz snorted. “I’m just saying, if Gabrielle comes to this party and has tentacles or her skin is green or something, I’m not going to be surprised.”

“In this story, you’d be the one with green tentacles, since it’s her planet we’re on.”

Franz sighed. “I guess. How does anyone dress like this?”

“It’s traditional northern formalwear,” Boey reminded him. “It emphasizes strength and virility.”

“Is that what it does?”

“Yes, now shut up and let me strap on this last part—again. And let me remind you…”

“Not to get distracted, I know.” Franz let out a sigh. “There’s got to be a better system than this.”

“We could get you a prosthetic.”

The outfit, if one wanted to call it that, was a series of silk straps that crossed the chest, emerging from a ring over Franz’s sternum. They were pulled tense around his body, where they tied together between his shoulder blades and were pulled down to join another series of similarly taut straps that ran up his legs. Those two wound together in between his buttcheeks, branching out there and wrapping around his waist, where they connected to a swatch of silk that covered Franz’s erection—and he had to be erect, pulling the fabric out from his body to keep the straps tense. If he softened up, as he had when he’d tried dressing the first time, the straps got loose, stopping pulling on the piece on his back, and the loss of tensile power everywhere made the outfit literally fall apart.

Northern formalwear emphasized strength by forcing him to stand with his shoulders squared and his back muscles tight, showing off his musculature, and emphasized virility by virtue of making it impossible to wear the whole ensemble if one couldn’t stay hard for an entire evening.

The gala was meant to last at least six hours.

Fortunately, after the first wardrobe malfunction, Boey had tied a nice ribbon around Franz to keep him encouraged, and he’d had a cup of tea with some herb in it that was supposed to help with this problem.

“No,” Franz sighed, waving his hand. “I wouldn’t want to look weak. Your tea and ribbon should do the trick, Boey. I do not understand northern fashion. We may as well be on a different planet.”

“We may as well,” Boey agreed, fitting the last piece in place and standing up, patting Franz’s shoulders. “Look at you, then. An alien prince, all dressed up like a human.”

Franz rolled his eyes. “Get me another cup of that tea, just in case.”


	82. Pax/Nate, The Perilous Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My second most common request after werewolves is something with tentacles. And fortunately that was the prompt for today! So here are some tentacles.

“What does it want?” Pax asked, slashing at a tentacle with his knife. It recoiled, but there were so many more. They were under attack from some weird squid. Or a collection of squids? There were a lot of tentacles.

And they had an agenda, from what Pax could tell. They were trying to grab him and Nate and do…something with them. Pax had already been grabbed twice and Nate three times, and they’d just barely managed to get away.

“I don’t know—dammit!” Nate shouted as he was lifted off his feet by the tentacles, which hefted him into the air and started undulating up his legs.

“Nate!” Pax tossed a knife into the nearest tentacle, and they dropped Nate with a thud, but not without payment. With a tear, Nate’s pantleg stayed up there, wrapped in the tentacle. It took most of the fabric with hit, leaving Nate in just a scrap of decency. “Stop getting grabbed!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nate grumbled, picking up his cutlass. He was without a shirt from escaping another tentacle, and that pantleg had been his last one. The tentacles weren’t trying to undress them, Pax was sure, it was just a coincidence that Nate was in a scrap and Pax had had lost his shirt.

Just as Nate said that, Pax was grabbed from behind, and with a dignified yelp he was lifted off the ground, a tentacle wrapped around every limb to stop him from moving. “Pax!” Nate ran forward, trying to hack through the tentacles to rescue him, but they made a fight of it, trying to grab him.

Pax struggled, trying to get away, as more tentacles wrapped around him, sliding up his pantlegs. “Ah…” He arched his back as they slid up, a few more touching his chest. What did they want? Why was this happening?

It was probably just some wild animal acting on instinct, he tried to tell himself even as he was sure it wasn’t. There was something else going on here, something strange.

The tentacles slid higher and higher, covered more and more of Pax’s body, and even as he started to feel thoughts that weren’t his telling him it felt nice, Pax shook himself out of it, flipped the knife in his hand and slashed at the tentacle holding him, making it let go. He used that knife to free himself from the others, and fell to the ground in a graceful ripping of fabric as the tentacles destroyed his pants, leaving him in just his smallclothes.

He quickly joined Nate, and the two of them stood back to back, weapons out. “We’ll have to cut a path through them,” Pax said, pointing to where he thought they looked thinnest.

“Right. I’ll follow you.”

Pax nodded, and he charged. They had to get out of here, get back to the ship. The tentacles kept trying to grab them, to do God knew what, to keep ripping their clothes off. 

Pax decided not to think about what would happen when they ran out of clothes.


	83. Owen, Dragons, Interspecies Politics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some fantasy sexual dimorphism (not to be taken too seriously as canon, though lady dragons are bigger than dude dragons).

“Please just try not to be rude,” Joey said as he led them into the cave. “Remember that they’re not human and they do things differently from you.”

As Owen nodded, Gabrielle spoke. “We’ll remember. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“I wasn’t worried about you,” Joey muttered, looking at Owen.

Owen held up his hands to show how empty and innocent they were. “I wasn’t planning on bringing it up.”

“Yes, you were.” Gavin said, crossing his arms.

“Was not.”

“Don’t,” Gabrielle said, pointing at him, her armour—the full suit, for best effect, even in the heat—clanking as she moved. “Don’t mention your hobbies.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Owen insisted. “Unless they get uppity.” If they did, mentioning that he killed dragons liked flies—okay, particularly big flies—might be helpful, Owen thought. Clad in his smallest, thinnest armour—a leather thong and two small pieces of armour on his arms–in order to minimize heat-related issues if it came to a fight, Owen was prepared to throw down with a cave full of huge scaly monsters.

Joey sighed, the end of his tail twitching where he had it wrapped around his leg. “Just don’t say anything to the matriarchs. Let the princess talk.”

“Good plan,” Gavin said, giving Owen a pointed look. He was dressed for the heat too, having ditched his shorts entirely and going with just a cloth band tied around his waist.

“Okay, okay.”

With a hesitant nod, Joey led them into the cave, which was huge and full of dragons. There were four of them, taking up the whole massive cavern, waiting for them. They were the size of buildings, with heads that Owen could stand in, looking down at them through slitted eyes, fangs and horns and claws all curving wickedly and dangerously, the room full of fetid breath and a low rumble. Owen figured he could take them if he had to.

“Which ones are the matriarchs?” Gavin asked Joey.

“All of them,” Joey muttered, waving.

“Honoured matriarchs,” Gabrielle said, bowing. “Thank you for allowing us this audience.”

“And welcome to our summit, human princess,” one of the dragons rumbled. “We understand you have a request of us.”

“We do.”

“In that case, this is a matter for women. The little one will take your attendants to join our men while we speak of important matters. They will not be harmed.”

“Very well,” Gabrielle said, not even looking back to see what Gavin and Owen thought. Joey had warned them that this might happen.

With a nervous smile, Joey jerked his head towards a small opening on the other side of the cave, and led Owen and Gavin that way while Gabrielle and the matriarchs waited for them to leave. They were led through a low tunnel that had a light at the other end. “Male dragons don’t participate in decision making,” he told them as they walked.

“God, Gabrielle’s not going to want to leave,” Gavin said, in front of Owen.

Owen expected to see more dragons when they emerged into the smaller cave, and he did, but not in the way he was expecting. Instead of huge, scaled beasts, the cave here was full of naked, pretty men with horns and tails like Joey, chatting and mingling and wrestling but definitely all mostly human shaped. “They…look more like us than I expected,” Owen muttered.

Gavin slapped his arm. “Don’t be racist.”

“I know, I know, but…” he waved around, then waved behind them. “They don’t look anything like the female dragons?”

“They’re not human, Owen, they don’t have to conform to what we think people ought to look like.”

“But…how do they…” Owen made a gesture with his hands.

“That’s a bit rude to ask when you don’t know them, hm?” Joey asked, leading them over to a small gathering of dragon guys. “Come on, I’ll introduce you. Feel free to take your armour off if you want to get comfortable. Everyone’s friendly and these meetings usually take hours.”


	84. Sully/Bartholomew, Monster Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always down for a chance to do Sully and Bartholomew interacting. Even if it is scantily clad.

There had been hesitation, at first, to accept it. To accept that they weren’t human anymore, that they were something else. A lot of them had worn illusion spells for a good while, worn a lot of conservative clothing that hid the parts of their bodies that had transformed, grew hair over horns, tucked tails into pants, covered claws with gloves, didn’t smile to hide fangs.

Power had come at a cost for all of them, and though they’d asked for it and paid it willingly, it was a cost some of them weren’t comfortable with.

But there had been a gradual shift, a push to accept who they were, to accept what they’d become. And Sullivan was glad for that. He was glad that he was finally content enough to let his horns show, to not hide the tattoos that started on his face and went all down his body, carving red lines through his jaundiced skin right to the soles of his feet. His ears were pointed and his eyes were snake-like and that was fine with him.

It was going to take monsters to win this war. Sullivan was a monster and he was proud of that.

He didn’t even have it the worst off, he still looked largely human. Not all the others could make that claim, their skin hardening like stone or their faces disappearing under tusks or other protuberances, limbs lengthening or shortening or multiplying, half or total transformations into bestial forms. But all of them were starting to accept who they were, accept what they were, and that was good.

When the sling had come into fashion among them, Sullivan have been one of the first to start wearing it. A little piece of fabric with two loops of string that went around the legs to keep it in place, it only hid just over half of what it was supposedly meant to cover. Sullivan generally wore his over the bottom half, letting the top of his piece be exposed for people to see. What did he care if people saw him? This was who he was.

Sullivan had never felt more powerful or confident than he had since he’d started wearing it. He’d even modified his to make it a bit smaller, just because it made him feel that confident.

Not everyone had taken up the trend as quickly as Sullivan had, and he understood that. Which was why, one day when he’d spotted Bartholomew from behind—full on, wearing nothing but some loops of fabric on his legs—Sullivan had yelped with something like glee and ran to jump on him, arms wrapping around Bartholomew’s neck as he landed between Bartholomew’s wings. “Look who’s finally stopped being all stuffy!”

“Get down, Sullivan,” Bartholomew muttered, blushing a little as Sullivan openly peered down to see how his sling fit him. He’d tried to stuff as much of himself in there as he could, which was going to lead to something falling out later but for now just made an impressive bulge. “I was starting to stick out by not wearing it is all. I still think it’s silly.”

“That’s just because you’re still worried what people are going to think of you,” Sullivan teased, pinching Bartholomew’s mottled cheek and refusing to get down. “Don’t be. Everyone’s going to love it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bartholomew was still red in the face—or as red as his face got now that it was all parchment-like—and stopped trying to get Sullivan down. “I’m not carrying you to the meeting.”

“Of course you are, dumbass,” Sullivan told him, nestling in, pressing against Bartholomew’s back and wrapping his legs around Bartholomew’s waist.

“Stop fucking around, you two,” Cameron’s voice said behind Sullivan, and unfortunately, Cameron’s voice was followed by Cameron, as if often was, standing there in her floor-length ball gown of red silk, looking at the two of them impatiently. She always looked to Sullivan like everyone’s angry grandmother combined into one person. And also combined with every terrifying warrior ever birthed in the world.

Sullivan got down, clearing his throat. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“I’m sure,” Cameron drawled, breezing past them to the meeting room while Bartholomew glared at Sullivan. She’d spotted Klaus and was headed towards him. He was wearing the sling too, his wiry body on display in all its skeletal glory.

He actually looked kind of good for a hundred-and-sixty-year-old man, Sullivan thought.

His jaunt on Bartholomew’s back had moved his sling so some things had popped out, and Sullivan fixed them unselfconsciously, giving Bartholomew a friendly slap on the butt as he went by. “Come on,” he said. “Wear your monster with pride and let’s get to work.”


	85. Gabrielle, Sudden Change of Equipment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme for this one was 'genderbending,' but eh, so I did this instead.

“What the fuck is this?” Gabrielle demanded, gesturing at her chest, her voice deeper than she wanted it to be.

“I think you should ask what the fuck isn’t that,” Gavin teased, and Gabrielle didn’t have time for him to tease her today, so she punched his shoulder. “Ow! No need to get all aggressive and punchy.”

“I think there’s a really good reason to get all aggressive and punchy,” Gabrielle countered, glaring at him. “My armour doesn’t fit anymore, which might be because suddenly I have a dick.”

Gavin grinned at her. “And yet if I went around telling everyone my genital structure, I’d get punched for that too.”

“Shut up.”

“Also I have one too, and I’m not aggressive and punchy.”

“I am,” Owen added, helpfully. “It’s just a spell. I’m sure we can get it reversed, or it’ll wear off or something.” He was looking at Gabrielle thoughtfully.

“What.”

“Nothing. You just look a lot more like Gavin than before.”

Gabrielle fixed a glare on him. “Stop imagining a threesome or I’ll castrate you myself.”

“Consider that line of thought ended.”

She kept the glare in place for a minute longer, just to make sure that Owen was serious. Only when he looked worried for his life did she nod, turn away and sigh, trying to adjust her suddenly ill-fitting armour.

Gavin was grinning at her again. “What?”

“You can’t dress like that,” he said.

“I can dress however I want.”

“Sure,” Gavin agreed, nodding. “But if you dress like a lady while you’re a man, people are going to wonder. And I assume you want to keep this a secret.”

“First of all, still a lady,” Gabrielle said, punctuating that with a slap to the head. “Secondly, shut up.”

“But I’m right.”

“Yes,” Gabrielle sighed. She hated when Gavin was right. “You’re right. I can’t let people find out about this. I’ll need a disguise until it gets sorted out.”

“You can be our new travelling companion,” Gavin said, nodding. He turned to Owen. “She’s closer to your size than mine. Lend her a spare set of armour that’ll fit her?”

“Sure.”

“Hold the fuck on. I’m not dressing like that.”

Gavin blinked. “Why not? It’s how men dress.”

“I know, but it’s…” Gabrielle paused. She couldn’t say objectifying, or demeaning or sexually provocative, because that would let the two of them in on the conspiracy that men weren’t supposed to know about. “Fine,” she muttered, trying not to blush. “Give it over. And you’d better have washed it, I’m not wearing anything you sweated on.”

Owen grinned at her now and dug in his bag, coming up with a small metal plate on a chain and some gauntlets and a sword belt. The benefit of male armour, Gabrielle supposed, was that it was possible to carry a few different sets, and it didn’t take long to put on. “Here you go. Cleaned it yesterday.”

“Thank you,” Gabrielle said grudgingly, taking it and turning to go.

“Where are you going?”

“To change,” Gabrielle said, trying to sound patient.

“Where?”

Gabrielle paused. Leaving this room would entail people seeing her. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” Owen told her. “You don’t have anything we haven’t seen already.”

“I hate both of you. You’re planning to torture me until this wears off, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” both of them said, nodding in unison.

With nothing else for it, Gabrielle sighed and started to change clothes right there. As she pulled on Owen’s spare armour, Gabrielle looked down at herself and figured that at least she looked good.


	86. Owen/Gavin, Identical Is Relative

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally 100% identical team uniforms!

It wasn’t like Owen was going to complain about the outfit.

First of all, it had been free. And second, Aria was requiring them all to wear the same uniform if they were going to take this bodyguarding job she’d arranged for them all. It was the kind of job, she’d told them, where they needed to look professional, that meant they had to look like a real team, which meant uniforms.

The uniform was a bit more than Owen would have liked, but it wasn’t so bad. Black boots, a pair of tight shorts—very, very tight, Owen was worried about bursting a seam if he moved the wrong way and not at all worried that anyone who saw him was going to misjudge his size based on his bulge—a short jacket worn open over nothing that cut off at the belly. There was even a jaunty little hat to be worn sideways. It looked good, which was its main function, just that if they had to fight in it Owen wasn’t sure about it holding up.

But hopefully that wouldn’t happen, he figured, strapping his sword on and nodding at himself in the mirror before setting out to join the others.

Gavin was in the hallway waiting for him, dressed identically but for the bow strapped over his back. The shorts were just as tight on him, which meant that Aria must have had them sized. Impressive attention to detail. “Ready?”

“Yeah. You look good.”

“I know.” Gavin grinned. “So do you, for being so overdressed.”

“I’ll live.”

Gavin nodded, and the two of them headed downstairs, Owen keeping an eye on Gavin to make sure he didn’t fall, and for that reason only, not at all because of the way Gavin’s hips swayed and his muscles moved in those shorts.

When they got downstairs, the others were already waiting for them. Dennis, dressed just like them. Aria, Cleo and Deatra, similarly uniformed in their long pants, heavier boots, full-length coats sweeping the ground, buttoned up to hide the armour they were wearing underneath. “Took you two long enough,” Aria told them.

“Sorry,” Gavin said, smiling. “Owen always takes forever to get dressed. He has to admire himself in the mirror for a while.”

“Hey.”

“Let’s just go,” Aria said, waving them out.

Dressed as uniformly as a team could be, the six of them went to work.


	87. Ron/James, Merchandise Rights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy figurines!

“Oh my God, look.”

“At what?”

“At that! They have figures!”

“Figures?”

“Of us!” James said, pulling Ron over to the shelf. He’d dragged Ron out on one of his ‘co-star friend days’ which seemed to entail wandering into random stores and spending a lot of money.

“You have to stop getting excited every time you see merch from the show,” Ron told James, following him over.

“No, I don’t,” James said, peering into the display case.

“It’s really hard to stay unrecognized when you squeal about how much something looks like you every fifteen minutes,” Ron pointed out.

“Okay, first of all, bad boy. Second, I don’t squeal, and third, this doesn’t look like me, it looks like you, see?”

Ron sighed, peered into the case at the figure. It did look like him. A lot like him. Enough that Ron was trying to remember if he’d modeled for a figure. “They…really went all out on me not having any clothes, wow.” He knew fans were into that, but wow.

“You’ve got a little leaf there, see?”

Ron thought it could be a bigger leaf. “What is that pose?” he asked, frowning and turning his shoulders a little to try and imagine doing it. The figure was standing with its legs spread, half turned at the waist, pecs bulging a little more than Ron’s really did (a lot more than Ron’s really did), eyes trained on the viewer. “I don’t…think a spine can bend like that?”

“You could if you tried,” James said, peering at it. “Wow, they even got your hair right.”

Ron scowled, not sure why a naked figure of him was so fascinating. At least, he saw, looking at the price tag, it was four hundred dollars. Which was insane, but okay. “There’s one of you too,” he said, pointing. Then he looked properly, and frowned again. “Those sure are some short shorts you’ve got on.”

“Have I ever dressed like that on the show?” James asked, looking. “And there’s a whip made out of—is that chokevine? Wow, the detail. I want a whip. How come I never get to whip you on set?”

“I don’t know, ask the director.” The way the figure was posed, James was in a near-split, holding up the whip, smile on his face. “I don’t think you’re that bendy.” His statue, Ron noticed with a triumphant grin, was three hundred and eighty dollars.

“Hm.”

Ron knew James well enough not to like that ‘hm.’ “What?”

James had his phone out, was grinning at Ron. “Do the pose the figure is doing. I want a picture.”

“No!” Aside from the fact that Ron would kill himself trying to stand like that, it was silly.

“Come on, it’ll be good press,” James said, cajoling.

It would be, Ron had to admit. “Only if you’re going to do it too.”

James cocked a smile. “Deal. Actually you know what, it’s more realistic if we dress like them. Take your clothes off.”

“Sure…” Ron started to do what James told him—undressing on command was habit—then he stopped. “I can’t strip in a store, you jackass!”

James giggled. “I know. I was just seeing if you would. I’m going to buy them. We’ll do the photos at home.”

“I’m…”

“Too late, you already agreed! Hey,” James said, flagging down someone who worked in the store. “I want to buy these two.”

Defeated, Ron just let him do it, hoping James would forget by the time they got back to his place.

He didn’t, but it turned out to be damn good press.


	88. Sam/Henry Sex Sells Soundtracks (Among Other Things)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Struggled a little with a sexy album cover idea until I realized that TV shows have soundtracks and I have a TV AU.

“Lean forward a little more.”

“Like this?” Sam asked, putting a bit more weight on his left leg.

“Yeah, that’s better. Hold that.”

Sam did as he was told, hearing the clicks of the camera go off. “You’re still peeking out a bit, can you lean forward some more?”

“I can,” Sam said, grinning. “I’m not sure how much more Henry can take of me leaning forward.”

“I’m fine,” Henry said from the floor, voice a little strained.

“You say that, but you say it in the same tone you always use when I’m hurting you and you’re too macho to pretend I’m not,” Sam told him.

“I’m fine,” Henry insisted. “It’s only my potential future children you’re hurting.”

Henry was laying naked on the floor with Sam stepping on his junk, Sam’s foot providing Henry’s only coverage from the prying eyes of the camera. Sam was nude as well, and was trying to lean in such a way as to hide behind his thigh without actually hurting Henry.

“This would be easier if one of us could wear pants,” Sam muttered, trying to adjust his stance.

“Every soundtrack cover has this theme. We’d have to reshoot and re-release all of them with clothes if we let you wear pants,” the photographer very patiently told Sam.

“I know, I know. How’s this?” he asked, finding a position that felt good.

“That’s better.” There was more clicking, a lot more this time. “Okay, that looks good. I just want to get some more under different light.”

“Yep, okay. I’ll just…stand here. On my buddy’s crotch. I’m fine.”

“More pertinently,” Henry said from the floor. “I’m also fine.”

“Nobody cares about you,” Sam assured him. “Everyone watches the show because they like it when you suffer.”

“Good, then we’ll tell them all the story about how filming this actually ruptured a testicle.”

“Two seconds ago you were bragging that it didn’t hurt,” Sam told him.

Henry chuckled. “Who said it hurt?”

“You’re insufferable.”

Sam was used to stuff like this by now. As much of the promotional imagery for the show as possible was shot with carefully censored nudity. They’d appeared covered only by each other’s hands and feet on DVD covers, posters, advertisements, merchandise, all kinds of junk. Henry claimed it was embarrassing to walk into a grocery story and suddenly see himself naked on the cover of a magazine, but Sam couldn’t relate.

“Could be worse,” Henry said conversationally as the photographer fiddled with the lighting.

“Yeah?”

“Edwin had to stand there in front of Erik while Erik cupped his junk from behind. They kept having to reshoot because you know.”

“I know,” Sam said, because he did. Individually both of them were very nice people who Sam liked. Together they were the most obnoxious people on set because of their stubborn refusal to just get along like humans. “I wish I’d been there for that.”

“It was hilarious, went on for like an hour.”

“Alright, I’m ready to go again,” the photographer called. “Try to look like you’re in pain.”

“I guess it’s time for acting,” Henry said, smirking with his voice.

Sam sighed, pressed down harder. Just to make the album cover more realistic.


	89. Owen/Gavin, Same Old Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the role reversal, since the whole story is based on the idea of a dude in distress, I just did a Gavin and Owen reversal.

Owen wasn’t sure what to think.

He’d started to worry that nobody would ever come rescue him from the dragon, and that he’d just have to resign himself to a life of sitting with piles of treasure in some cave and eating deer that the dragon brought for him. It wasn’t too bad, but it wasn’t the castle and he was pretty sure his parents were going to be upset if he didn’t come back.

He’d tried to escape, but every time he did the dragon growled at him, and it wouldn’t let him go near anything that was a weapon. Owen had thought maybe he could wear it down over time, lull it into a false sense of security or something, but that had turned out to be unnecessary.

When the blonde guy had shown up, Owen had figured he was toast. Human toast, that was. He wasn’t even wearing armour, just regular hunting gear, and he was armed with a bow. A bow and arrow, against a dragon the size of a house. No matter how cocky he’d been that he was going to win, Owen hadn’t figured him for having a chance.

But, well, here he was. Dead dragon, living hunter. He was scraped up from the battle with the dragon, cheeks shining red from the heat. His shirt had been burned off except for one sleeve, showing off his nicely muscled chest. His pants too had suffered damage in the battle, with only one pantleg remaining—on the opposite side to the intact sleeve—and that shredded below the knee. The wrecked side of his pants was gone all the way up, the waistband the only part that had survived. One more half-inch and the dragon would have had those pants completely off. Whatever smallcothes the hunter had been wearing were ruined too, and Owen could see just the barest hint of what they were supposed to be keeping in place, about to fall out of what remained of the pants. The other side was intact, but with heavy rips that left a good amount of skin open to the air. When the hunter had had his back to Owen before, Owen had seen that almost the entire back of his pants were ruined too.

He still had his funny hat, though, which had a feather in it. And one boot, though it was singed. And his bow, but no arrows.

“Oh,” Owen said, when he realized that the dragon was dead.

“Oh?”

“You’re…alive,” Owen said, blinking. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for slaying the dragon, noble warrior. I’m Prince Owen, and the kingdom owes you a great debt.”

“Aw, thanks,” the hunter said, grinning. He gave Owen a mock bow. “I’m Gavin. Glad you’re safe, your Highness.”

“As am I. Whatever you desire as a reward for your bravery, it will be granted to you,” Owen promised. Gavin had the look of a commoner to him, so he probably wouldn’t want anything that grandiose. Some gold, a small fort or something. Some noble’s daughter as a wife.

“Anything?” Gavin grinned. “You sure?”

“Of course, like I said, I owe you a debt.”

“In that case, I think I’ll go for the classic reward, assuming that’s on the table.”

“The…classic reward?” Owen asked, frowning.

“You know. Slay a dragon, Rescue a prince, get a kiss. Get something else.”

“You want…sex?” Owen felt himself blushing, wishing that Gavin wasn’t so attractive and battle-torn.

“I mean, only if you’re down for it, obviously. Don’t feel obligated. I just thought, hey, I’ll ask. You’re hot, and killing a dragon is horny work. If you don’t want to I’ll make do with piles of gold or something.”

“No, I…” Owen swallowed, not sure what he was about to get into. “I think your preferred reward can be arranged.”

Gavin grinned. Owen wasn’t sure what to think, but if nothing else, he knew nothing but good was going to come of this.


	90. Isaac, Nicholas, Fundraising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All-male sexy car wash! Isaac's class was saved further objectification by virtue of the prompts being mostly sfw.

“That’s a dumb idea.”

“It’s a great idea, It’ll raise lots of money, who wouldn’t come to that?”

“Not everyone is as gay as you.”

“Maybe not, but some people are women, stop being so sexist.”

That was how the conversation had gone when Isaac had suggested the dorm run a car wash as its fundraising initiative for the year in their annual attempt to beat the girls’ dorm’s ten-year winning streak. The opposition, to be fair, had been less to the car wash and more to his suggested uniform.

Isaac had wanted white briefs and nothing else. Almost everyone else had thought that was too scandalous for a fundraiser, and though Isaac didn’t see anything scandalous about underwear, they’d eventually compromised on a white t-shirt and shorts for everyone instead. Isaac had put up a fight to keep just the briefs under the t-shirt, but even that had been deemed too much.

It was fine, he’d made up for it by just not wearing underwear at all under the shorts, and had managed to convince a few other guys to do the same. And in the heat, about half the guys had taken off their shirts anyway, so that was a plus.

Isaac hadn’t yet, liking the way it clung to him when it was wet, liking that it showed without telling, liking that people whose cars he was washing were looking at him.

Thank goodness there was a ready supply of cold water around to help with any problems that might, ahem, arise.

Isaac leaned as far as he could over the hood of the car he was doing, glancing through the windshield to smile at the ladies inside. They waved at him, and Isaac waved back, smile widening as he climbed up onto the hood—hot, ouch—to wash the windshield itself.

He washed in circles, taking his time, before getting up on his knees and leaning forward, pressing himself against the windshield to wash the roof for a minute. Which meant he had to wash the windshield again, but nobody had ever said the point of a car wash was to wash cars.

The ladies looked very happy as Isaac got down, and Isaac was very happy too. He sauntered over to the bucket of water and bent over, back to the car, washing out his rag and dancing to nonexistent music as he did. “You almost done over there?” he called out to Nicholas.

The response was a rag hitting the back of his head. “Done,” Nicholas said back, coming around the car. He was one of the ones who’d taken his shirt off, and Isaac thought that if they took a break together, he’d probably be able to talk Nicholas out of those red briefs too—the shorts were just as see-through as Isaac had hoped—and get him to just the shorts. “You done doing your stripper routine?”

“What stripper routine?” Isaac asked, picking up the hose to rinse the car off, spraying Nicholas with it because he could, and grinning. “I’m just washing cars here.”

Nicholas gave Isaac a friendly shove and Isaac laughed, going about hosing down the car. He patted Nicholas on the butt as he went by, then winked at the ladies in the car while Nicholas just sort of stood there with his arms crossed, looking all stoic and handsome and possibly not noticing just how much cling he had going on at the moment.

Isaac didn’t plan to tell him.

When he was finished, Isaac handed the hose off to Nicholas and leaned down by the driver’s side window, grinning inside. The window rolled down, and Isaac said. “All done here. You ladies have a good day.”

“You too, and thanks. I’m sure you and your…friend did a great job.”

Isaac beamed. “We both know our way around a hose. See you!”

That got him more tittering, and the ladies drove off.

Nicholas, to his credit, waited until they were out of range before spraying Isaac with the hose. Isaac relished the opportunity to cool off, and let it happen. “Stop saying stuff like that to people.”

“Nope,” Isaac said, waving the next car in the line forward. As the ladies left the parking lot, they stopped to put a tip in Garrett’s box by the gate, though they’d paid on the way in. “I’m trying to raise money here, Nikky. And it’s working.”


	91. Cal/Wes/Mick/Sully, Job Hazard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love sexy clothing damage.

Cal hadn’t expected gremlins.

They were small and wimpy but numerous and armed with pokers, and when they swarmed the team out of nowhere, it was enough of a problem to be called a problem, if not an emergency.

“Careful, guys,” he said, drawing his sword. “They’re more dangerous than they seem.”

“How dangerous can they be?” Sully scoffed, taking out his knife. “They’re six inches tall.”

And he stepped forward, aimed a kick at the nearest gremlin.

Five more gremlins jumped on him. “Fuck!” Sully batted them off, stepping back, a hole opening on the leg of his shorts from one of their pokers. “Oh, it is fucking on, you assholes.”

The gremlins ran and leapt and poked at them, doing their very best to bring Cal’s team down. Nobody got too hurt, but that didn’t mean there was no damage. Holes were torn in Wes’s pants, and one of the straps on his codpiece snapped. Mick’s stole and smallclothes were torn. Cal lost the button on his coat and almost all of one sleeve, and the garter holding up his left boot snapped, forcing him to step out of it or trip, and his loincloth got an opening right below what would have been a very bad place to get poked. Sully was the one they were mad at and he got the brunt of it, his boots torn, his vest shredded and left hanging off one arm, his shorts cut wide open in the back and front both, a small scrap persisting in front to cover him, which Cal thought was a small miracle.

By the time they’d dispatched with all the gremlins, they were tired and sweaty. Cal wiped his forehead, looking around for damage. Nobody was too badly hurt, thank God. Wes was trying to figure out a way to wear his codpiece with only one strap, and whatever he came up with there was going to be shifting that gave a little peek at what was underneath. His pants were torn up and down, covering about a third of what they’d covered before. He had dirt all over his chest and face. Mick’s stole was hanging kind of uselessly around his neck, his war paint smeared, and he was trying hard to shift what was left of his smallclothes in a way that would cover his front at least. Sully was half-hanging out of his shorts but sighing with not much to be done about it; his armbands were gone and his boots were a mess, his vest in pieces. Cal was barely keeping one boot, and his loincloth would keep him covered as long as he didn’t do squats. He took off his coat and handed it to Mick, to gratefully tied it around his waist.

“Who come I don’t get the coat?” Sully asked, glaring. “I’m worse off.”

“You picked the fight,” Cal said, though the fight had already been picked by the time Sully had done his thing. “Anyway, you’re fine. We’re okay. That could have gone a lot worse.”

“Not sure what we’re going to do if something else like that happens,” Wes muttered, finishing his adjustments.

“Gaining a healthy appreciation for the breeze?” Cal suggested, shrugging. “Let’s worry about that when we come to it. Let’s keep moving, it’s not far now.”

Battle-torn and weary, they kept moving.


	92. Owen and team, Strip Down to Fight Cancer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friendly charity game between Owen's school and Isaac's.

“At least it’s not raining.”

“Yeah, we won’t freeze.”

“I was thinking it would make the paint run,” Gavin mused, blowing on Owen’s back, touching him lightly. “There we go. All uniformed up.”

Like every other guy in the locker room, Owen was all uniformed up in cleats, knee guards, a white jockstrap and some blue paint with his last name and number on his back, about to go out on the field for their charity game against St. Sebastien’s. The game was to raise money for kids with cancer, and their team had incentivized people to donate money by agreeing to take play with part of their kit off for every twenty large they raised.

Owen had figured at worst they’d play shirtless for the day, but nope. He didn’t know if it was because everyone was generous or because they were perverts, but they’d managed to raise fifty-five thousand dollars—which was awesome, but meant that honour now bound them to play without their shorts either.

At least, Owen figured, they’d fallen five grand short of the next twenty. That would have been…interesting. There had been a big surge of donations in the last few days after the coach had managed to get the other team to agree to strip off too and make it even, so everyone was in their jock and it was totally the rich kids’ fault.

“Alright, let’s go!” Warren called out to them, and the team started filing out onto the field, where a huge crowd greeted them, cheering as they emerged. The camera connected to the big screen focused on each of them in turn, and Owen grinned when it was his turn, flexing a little, waving to the camera.

The crowd cheered some more. Owen could get used to this.

The other team filed out after them, to more cheers, in black jocks and yellow paint. They looked markedly less confident than Owen felt, and only a few of them struck poses for the camera.

They were going to lose so bad.

Two teams of half-naked soccer players arrayed themselves on the field, and the whistle blew, and the game started.

Owen mostly forgot about being mostly undressed as he played, running circles around the guys on the other team, bumping shoulders and legs and chests with them, the crowd enjoying that by their cheers. One guy on the other team got a penalty for grabbing the strap of Ashton’s jock and nearly exposing him on camera.

By the end of the first half, the score was three-nothing and Owen was pretty sure that only one of those numbers was going to go higher.

“God, you guys could let me do something,” Gavin complained as they all headed to the locker room after the first half, the coach waiting for them. “I’m bored as hell out there.”

“You’re lying,” Evan accused. “You’re ogling Owen, you’d be useless if the ball came your way.”

“I am not!”

“He’s ogling all of us, don’t think he’s not,” Owen said, earning a red-faced Gavin and a slap on the arm.

“Alright boys,” the coach said, waving them all over. “There’s not much to this. You’re playing well, keep playing well. You all have a decision to make.”

“What kind of decision?” Warren asked, arms crossed.

“More donations were coming in during the first half,” the coach told them. “A lot of them. You’re up to sixty-four thousand, now.”

A silence fell over the locker room. The players all looked at each other, and at the only piece of equipment they had left to take off.

“Other team says they’ll follow your lead on it,” the coach added. “I think everyone would understand if you decided not to follow through. But it’s up to you.”

They all looked at each other for a second, not sure what to do. Of course, it was Gavin who broke the silence, with a wide grin as he reached down for his jock. “Come on, guys. We’ve got a second half to play, and we’re out of uniform.”

They’d made a pledge. Honour bound them to follow through on it.


	93. Ron/James, A Very Flexible Model

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Ron finds out that he's the subject of a lot of James's more creative drawings.

“Can I look at these?”

James nodded, didn’t even look up from his drawing pad. “Sure.” He’d asked Ron to just sit there and be drawn, not posing or doing anything special, just ‘natural, the way you are.’ Ron wasn’t sure what that meant, but he figured that meant ‘sit there naked and dick around for a while until I get bored,’ which was fine with him.

But then his phone had died and there was nothing else in reach, so Ron was kind of sitting here in limbo, wondering how long James planned to draw, knowing it was a long time because James could do nothing if not fixate, and he’d probably only stop when he was hungry.

Since the only thing in reach was a box of drawings that James had under his chair, Ron had picked that out. With James’s permission secured (he had perpetual permission, but that didn’t stop him from asking every time, just in case James had pictures he didn’t want Ron to see), he opened the lid and pulled out the stack, taking a look at the top one.

It was mostly sketches of him, Ron saw, a blush creeping across his face. He knew James drew him a lot, but he hadn’t realized how often. His face at different angles, his torso, never clothed.

As he got deeper into the box, he found more drawings of himself, still never clothed, and this time not just busts. That was fine, it was what James was drawing right now. Ron wasn’t afraid to see his own dick in pencil on a page. Though as he got deeper into the pile, it got to be less innocent pictures of Ron standing there and more…creative.

James had posed Ron a lot in his pictures. Flexing his muscles, turned back towards the page, leaning back a little.

As Ron rifled through the pile, he came to realize that there was an organization to it. James had arranged the sexier pages to be at the bottom. He was only about halfway through, and every picture was obviously meant to emphasize his muscles (which Ron wasn’t sure he really had), or his groin area. He was hard in a good amount of them now, too.

Ron must have made a noise as he rifled deeper, looking at some pictures of him facing the camera despite his backside being on full display, one of him touching himself while leaning back way too far, one of him sucking his own… “Oh! No, no.”

Ron looked up, saw James staring at him. “No, you weren’t supposed to look at those.”

“You said I could.”

“I didn’t look to see what you were asking about. Those are…” James was flaming red in the face.

“Your porno drawings of me?” Ron asked, holding up a picture where he was rather impressively fingering himself while holding himself up with his other hand.

Obviously mortified, James nodded. “Sorry. I meant to tell you I’d done them, but I…”

“I’m not mad. I think you think I’m bendier than I am.”

“I was practicing my anatomy.”

“Well, you were practicing my anatomy,” Ron said, smiling. He was flattered, actually. If a little embarrassed. “I’m just saying…” He came to a picture, showed it to James. “I like this one.”

“Me too.”

“You can see my buttcrack and my dick in it.” Ron frowned, trying to figure out how he’d have to stand. “I…” he got up, flexing a little, turning his waist a bit, bending backwards. “Hm…”

“I don’t expect you to actually do it,” James said, biting his lip.

“I don’t think I can do this pose in your sketch,” Ron said, bending farther until his hands touched the ground, turning a bit sideways. He lifted up his left leg to give him a bit of a tilt. His back ached, but he was pretty sure James could see both like this. “How’s this?”

James watched him carefully. “Wow, I never thought of that pose. You can see both…” He looked down at his sketchbook, turned to a clean page. “Hold that pose for a while.”

“Guess you weren’t overestimating my bendiness after all.”

“You shouldn’t have shown me this,” James said, sketching furiously. “I’ve got a lot of ideas and now I know you can do them. Don’t move.”

Ron’s back was sore by suppertime, but James got a lot of good drawings out of it and he wasn’t bored anymore, so they were both happy.


	94. Hans, The Mysterious Vanishing Pants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking the magically vanishing clothes prompt as an opportunity to introduce a new character or two!

Hans admitted to being nervous. He’d never been entirely comfortable around magic and such forth, and so being dispatched to investigate ‘strange happenings’ near the Flaming Plains was not his favourite assignment ever.

But as his queen commanded, so did Hans do, and he led a troop of twenty soldiers, plus the queen’s favourite wizard Ronaldo, down to the site of these strange happenings, hoping that they weren’t so strange after all.

But, well. Trees were upside down, rocks were hollow, the roads twisted and turned and went nowhere, and the air was full of invisible insects. “What are we dealing with, Ronaldo?”

Ronaldo shook his head, hands waving around in some magical gesticulation that wizards were fond of. “A rogue wizard, I assume,” he said, sighing. “A powerful one.”

“More powerful than you?” Hans was not going into battle against some crazy wizard if Ronaldo was going to be useless. He liked his internal organs internal, thank you.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure I can handle it. Judging by the magic in the air, I’d say he or she isn’t far, perhaps just up that hill.”

He pointed at a nearby hill that seemed to be tilting somewhat to the left, and Hans sighed. “Onwards, then.” He directed the troop that way, hoping they weren’t all turned into caterpillars.

At the base of the hill, they dismounted, and proceeded up it on foot. The air was rippling with magic that was perceptible even to Hans. Ronaldo was prepared, hands out to strike with magic if they were attacked.

Hans’s shirt disappeared. “What the…” he looked down at his bare chest, wondering where his shirt, his armour had gone. He looked at Ronaldo, only to find the wizard standing there without pants, his coat and shirt and loincloth all that was covering him. “What’s happening?”

“We’re under attack,” Ronaldo said, looking around. “But I don’t understand why…”

All around them, Hans’s soldiers’ armour was disappearing, seemingly one piece at a time, eliciting chaos. “The only thing to do is find him,” Ronaldo said, looking up to the top of the hill. “And stop him before he makes something important disappear.”

Hans’s pants vanished, and he thought that something important was about to disappear, but he nodded gruffly, waving for the men to follow him up the hill at a near-run.

By the time they reached the top, very few of them, Hans included, could boast more than a loincloth to his name. Clad in nearly nothing, Hans held up his sword, prepared to do battle.

Sitting on a petrified tree stump was a boy in big coat, knees huddled up to his chest. He looked up at them, scared. The air was rippling around him.

Hans’s sword disappeared. “What the devil…”

“Not a rogue,” Ronaldo said, stepping forward. “Just untrained. He can’t control his power. I understand now.”

“What will you do with him?” Hans demanded. He was a bit miffed about the sword disappearing. He’d liked that sword. 

“Train him,” Ronaldo said. To the boy, he smiled. “Don’t be afraid, I can help you. What’s your name?”

The boy blinked, the ground underneath him painted in white and red stripes now. “Ignatius. Don’t come any closer. You’ll disappear.”

“No, I won’t,” Ronaldo assured him. “I know about your power. I can help you, I promise.”

“Can you help him get our clothes back?” Hans asked.

“No, I’m afraid those are gone. We’ll all just have to live with it while we make our way back home.”

Live with it, Hans thought, looking at himself, at his soldiers. A fine lot they made now, traipsing around in their loincloths. “This boy owes us an apology.” If he’d known he was going to end up being stripped out in the open, he’d have eaten less chicken for the last ten years.

“This boy is going to be the most powerful wizard in the kingdom. I’m sure he’ll make it up to us.”

Hans sighed. “At least nobody died,” he muttered, turning around. “And at least the kid’s fully clothed, so hopefully it won’t seem weird when we bring him with us. Let’s go.”

Hans just hoped that Ronaldo could get the kid’s powers under control before anything else vanished.


	95. Daniel and company, The Best Pranks are the Simplest Pranks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rejected Magic Meat March drabble that only got rejected after it had been written, so here it is anyway.

Marcus was fidgeting outside Daniel’s door when he came out of his dressing room. He was always done first out of the four of them, and Daniel understood that. He himself always needed a bit of time to stop acting since his character was so mentally difficult, Hugh liked to take long showers after filming and Simon liked to stay in his dressing room and fret that he hadn’t done well enough in his scenes.

Marcus always waited for them to finish so they could walk out together, but he didn’t always fidget, so Daniel punched his shoulder, joining him at the wall outside their co-stars’ dressing rooms. “Pants on backwards?” he asked, since Marcus was mostly adjusting his jeans.

“No, I…” Marcus made an agitated noise. “I think I’m wearing your boxers?”

“Hm.” Daniel could believe that. He’d probably left a pair or two at Marcus’s house in their time hanging out, it happened.

“I didn’t think they were that bad this morning, but suddenly they’re too small.”

Daniel stuck out his tongue. “Not my fault you got dressed in your sleep. Let me see.”

“Let you see?”

“Let me see if they’re mine,” Daniel said, shrugging. They filmed for a few hours every day with no pants on, it really wasn’t that big a deal.

“You planning to collect?” Marcus was already unbuttoning his jeans, though.

“No. Just curious to see if I could make you pull down your pants in the hallway.”

“Of course you can make me pull down my pants in the hallway,” Marcus muttered, giving an eye roll as he did just that. “The whole world’s seen me without my pants on, who cares if the janitor does too?”

As Marcus lowered his jeans to his knees, Daniel frowned. “Those _are_ my boxers,” he confirmed.

“Told you, you think I don’t know what my friend’s underwear looks like?” Marcus winced. “Hold on, let me say that again but not weird.”

“No, I mean…” Daniel leaned in, looked closer at the blue pattern. “Those are the boxers I was wearing this morning.” And, Daniel noted, they looked better on Marcus’s larger frame than they did on his own.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Then…what are you wearing now?”

Now, that was a good question. Daniel undid his belt, pushed his khakis down to his knees, revealing the green and white starred boxers that he’d put on without thinking as he’d changed. “Um…I’ve never seen these before?”

Which was, in itself, kind of impressive.

“What do you mean you’ve never…

Simon’s dressing room door clicked open, and they both looked up as he came out, frown on his face before he even saw them. “Did one of you guys…oh, there they are,” he said, pointing at Daniel. “Why do you guys have your pants down and why are you in my underwear?”

“We’re solving a mystery,” Daniel said, gesturing for Simon to open his pants. “What are you wearing if these are yours?”

“I don’t know,” Simon said, doing as he was bid. “This pair was with my clothes, but it’s not mine?” He lowered his pants as well, showing off a white pair of boxers, which sagged a little for being too big, and which Daniel recognized.

“Those are Hugh’s,” Daniel said, glancing at his door. “Someone’s having some fun with us, I think.”

“So what, Hugh’s going to come out of there with mine on?” Marcus asked.

Even as he spoke, Hugh’s door opened and he came out in nothing but a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, pants in his hand. “Which one of you assholes…Simon, really? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Those aren’t mine,” Marcus muttered.

“I should hope not, but…”

“No, I have Daniel’s, Daniel has Simon’s and Simon has yours. Whose are those?” Marcus demanded, pointing at Hugh.

“I don’t know, but I want my clothes back.”

“No,” Marcus shook his head, pulling his pants up hastily. “Because that sets off a whole chain of people taking off their underwear and I don’t have mine to take back yet.”

Daniel looked at the three of them, then down at himself, then turned around to where the hallway bent around a corner. “Sam, Henry. Get the hell out here so I can kill both of you.”

“Oh, seriously?” Hugh asked, sighing.

To their credit, the two of them came out from around the corner immediately, giggling like idiots. “Surprise!” Sam said, and Henry did jazz hands.

“I hate you, and I know enough martial arts to demonstrate how much,” Daniel told them, arms crossed.

Sam just laughed. “Beat up the blind guy, real progressive of you.”

“Don’t you two have jobs or something?” Marcus demanded of them.

“Nah, we’re just here for the comic relief. And you should really congratulate us,” Henry said, nodding. “This wasn’t easy to pull off.”

“Yeah, whose underwear am I wearing?” Hugh asked.

“And where are mine?” Marcus wanted to know.

“I want to know how you did it,” Daniel added, just because he was pretty impressed with the organization and sneakiness. Neither of them was even filming today.

“No, we’ll get dressed first and tear down the wizard’s curtain after,” Simon said, poking Daniel.

“But they didn’t just do this to us—they must have switched everyone on set.”

Henry burst out laughing, and Sam was leaning against a wall to keep himself on his feet.

“Where are…”

“Not telling. You want to find out you’re going to have to get panting people,” Henry teased, hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“I…” Marcus looked at them. “He thinks I’m not going to do that. You’d better believe I’m going to do that. Come on. Underwear hunt.” And he stalked off, taking Hugh and Simon with him, Simon quickly trying to do up his pants. “Come on, Daniel.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,’ Daniel said, shaking his head at Henry as he covered up. “You’re wearing his,” he whispered to Henry, and Henry nodded apologetically. Daniel grinned. “I’ll record as much as I can.”

“We figured you’d be on our side in this,” Sam said, beaming. “Record with sound.”

“Can do.” Daniel turned and followed after his co-stars as they went to unravel the great underwear swap.


	96. Hugo/Rock, Gladiatorial Contest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt today was for sexy fighting, and I've had some gladiators in my back pocket for a while now that my partner convinced me to break out for this one.

They weren’t in the big arena, the one that roared when the fight started. The smaller one just made a lot of discordant noise, but that didn’t bother Hugo. As he walked out in his show-armour, unbuckled helmet, leather shoulder and half-chest plate, exposed belly, belt attached to a half-skirt of leather straps that only covered his sides and left his backside hanging out and his leather thong exposed, he waved, smiled for the modestly sized crowd. The cheer intensified.

Beside him, Rock was also waving, giving the crowd his best grin and making sure to turn around so his wave got all of them, and so all of them got sight of him. He was from the northern colonies, so they’d dressed him in a parody of his homeland’s warriors, a bear’s head for a cap, the fur coming down like a mane to his shoulders, bangles of bone on his arms, red paint across his chest and a small pelt tied around his waist with furry boots to match it all.

Then they grinned at each other, making their way to the centre of the small arena. Both of them recognized this cheer. Nobody was here to see bloodshed today. They were here for a show, not a fight.

Hugo and Rock were both showmen just as much as they were fighters, and neither of them had a problem with providing less than bloody entertainment sometimes.

After letting the crowd brew for a minute, Hugo pulled out his dull short sword. “Let’s go, you big, dumb barbarian!” he shouted, knowing the lower seats would hear him.

“Come at me, you puny little colonizer!” Rock shouted back, affecting a northern accent as he hefted his studded club with a cocky grin.

“Your funeral,” Hugo muttered, running at Rock and starting the fight in a wash of cheers. The good thing about the show-fighting was that since Rock was the foreign barbarian, he would lose. The bad guy always lost. They fought, not for real but in the flashy way that crowds liked, the way that got them sweaty and just a little bit scuffed up, the way that made it seem like they were trying.

After a few minutes, the energy of the crowd ebbed, though. “They’re getting bored,” Rock muttered, bringing his club down to smash in Hugo’s face in a telegraphed attack for Hugo to block.

“Yeah, let’s do something exciting,” Hugo agreed, flexing his muscles to make it seem like he was straining.

They broke apart and Rock aimed a swing at Hugo’s head that Hugo dodged in an experienced way that let his cap come off, eliciting a gasp from the crowd at the close save. In a crouch, Hugo smirked, lunged forward, carefully hooking his sword through the tie on Rock’s pelt so that when Rock sidestepped, the pelt opened, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Hugo came out on the other side of the lunge, pulled Rock’s pelt off his sword and held it up victoriously as the crowd roared approval. That roar increased as Rock leapt on Hugo from behind, one arm putting him into a choke and the other tearing his skirt away, leaving him in the thong. “Cocky bastard,” Rock teased.

Hugo elbowed Rock in the gut and staggered forward when Rock let him go. “Crowds love to see the barbarian get humiliated,” he said with a grin, wiping his mouth. He dangled Rock’s pelt as if taunting him with it, then tossed it over his shoulder.

“Who’s humiliated?” Rock asked, foregoing his club and leaping forward to grab Hugo’s arms, grappling with him. Hugo refused to go down like Rock wanted and they stood there, pushing and shoving each other, until a minute later Rock suddenly went low, got his arm around Hugo’s middle and hefted with a shout, tossing Hugo over his shoulder.

“Put me down!”

Rock smacked Hugo’s ass, carrying Hugo into the centre of the arena as the crowd hollered. Hugo still had his sword and he tangled it in Rock’s leg to get them to fall, but the pile they landed in had Hugo on the bottom, on his belly and it was easy for Rock to pin his arm and push his head into the dirt. “What are you doing?” Hugo asked him as Rock straddled him. “You’re supposed to lose, you’re the bad guy.”

Rock leaned down while the crowd shouted at them. “Barbarians don’t play by the rules, Hugo.”


	97. Edwin/Owen, Test of...Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alternate (and slightly less sfw) version of the sexy fighting prompt that I almost went with.

“This is stupid,” Edwin muttered, rubbing oil on his arm.

“It’s what your prince commands.”

“The prince can…” Edwin wisely stopped himself from saying anything else, shaking his head. He finished lathering himself up with oil, provided by Owen, and turned to face Owen, also all oiled up.

Both of them had stripped down to their smallclothes for the wrestling match that was apparently part of the screening process to be on Gavin’s guard. Edwin didn’t know if he was supposed to lose or win if he wanted to get on, which meant he didn’t know what he was supposed to do to not get on. It was very stressful.

Owen grinned at him. “Ready?”

“I guess.”

“You can start whenever,” Gavin said, sitting in a chair not far off, legs draped over one arm as he watched them.

Gavin winked at Owen. Owen winked back. Edwin hated both of them so much.

And then Owen hunched down, ran at Edwin. It was all Edwin could do to square his shoulders and meet Owen, but it was already too late and they were on the ground, rolling over on top of one another, sliding and slipping. Edwin couldn’t get any traction and Owen was heavier than him by a good amount, leaving Edwin little to do once Owen got on top of him.

Still he tried, as Owen straddled him, smiling down at Edwin as he did. “You’re not going to give up that easily, right?”

“Of course not,” Edwin grunted, using the oil to his advantage and managing to draw a leg up to his chest, kicking Owen in the belly to get him off. When Owen was on the ground, Edwin got to his feet, waited for Owen to do the same, and then darted around behind him, leaping onto Owen’s back.

Unfortunately he slid, and Owen turned, managing to half-catch Edwin under one arm, getting in something like a headlock except around his chest. He then slid his hand down and hefted Edwin up, Edwin’s face ending up right beside Owen’s crotch, where he swore Owen hip-checked him on purpose before tossing Edwin to the ground and falling on him, taking the breath out of Edwin’s lungs.

“That was a good move,” Owen said, as he lay on top of one of Edwin’s arms and tried to pin the other. “It’s not going to work twice.”

Edwin’s right arm was pinned underneath Owen, touching fabric. He had a moment, a long moment of wondering whether pride was more important than winning, and he decided that it wasn’t. Edwin grabbed Owen through his smallclothes, squeezed hard.

Owen grunted, recoiled automatically, and Edwin slithered away, almost getting up before Owen grabbed his leg, pulled him down and fell on top of him from behind, arm around Edwin’s middle and another keeping Edwin’s arm pinned behind his back. Owen reached down and Gave Edwin a return squeeze. In his peripheral vision, Edwin saw Gavin shift, watching them with interest now. “If that was what you wanted,” Owen said, breathing on Edwin’s neck, “all you had to do was say so.”

Edwin butted his head back, managed to free his arm and was able to at least spin around, grabbing arms to grapple with Owen, the two of them writhing on the ground together. Pressing against each other, rubbing, grinding, grunting as they tried to best each other in combat.

Edwin wasn’t sure which of them got hard first, but he assumed it was Owen and redoubled his efforts to move him. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

“Trying…to…get you off…”

Owen grinned. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

Edwin’s face exploded in more colour than exertion could account for. “That’s not…that’s not what I meant. I meant get you off me!”

“Hm.” Owen pressed down harder, not letting Edwin go anywhere. “Keep trying. We’ll see what happens first. And don’t forget.” Owen leaned down, mouth just on Edwin’s ear. “Your prince is watching.”


	98. Everyone, Tan Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's prompt was the beach episode, so I wrote an entire episode.

Owen threw himself into a leap, fist extended, muscles straining as every part of him struggled to reach the volleyball.

He hit it, kept it in the air, and fell flat into the sand. “Gavin!”

“Got it.” Gavin was there, ready, and when the ball came his way, he hit it right over the net, right in between Edwin and Ty. “Ha.”

“Oh, it’s one point, get over yourself,” Edwin muttered, trotting out to get the ball.

“I think the ‘ha’ was more about the fifteen other points that one was tacked onto,” Ty told Edwin.

Owen grinned as he stood up, dusting himself off. “Good hit.”

“Good save,” Gavin said, smirking. “And you were worried the bathing suits would distract me.”

Owen shrugged. A day at the beach with a bunch of guys in tiny bathing suits? Of course he’d been worried that Gavin would get distracted. “It was a fair thing to assume.”

“As if I’m some kind of horny dog who gets distracted by the sight of sausage,” Gavin muttered, coming over and giving Owen a kiss.

Owen narrowed his eyes, took in Gavin’s relaxed form, his tight bathing suit hugging him closely, his tanned skin a little shiny with sweat. Then he looked over at Edwin at Ty, talking strategy, flushed and out of breath, sand clinging to them in various places.

And Owen got it. “Ah. You’re not distracted because you have a goal.”

“Yeah.” Gavin slapped Owen’s chest. “Winning.”

“No. Which one of them did you negotiate the stakes with?”

It didn’t matter what the stakes were. The only thing Gavin liked more than winning was winning _something_.

Gavin licked his lips. “Doesn’t matter. A few more points and we’re going to have our very own errand boys for the rest of the day.”

Owen laughed. Edwin was going to be so pissed. But then, Edwin was probably the one who’d agreed to it in the hopes that it would be the other way around. “You’re insufferable.”

“We make a good team, then,” Gavin said, snapping the front of Owen’s speedo.

“You two done flirting or should we stop playing?” Edwin demanded.

“We’re never done flirting,” Owen called, patting Gavin’s lower back as they both turned to face the net. “But we can still kick your asses. Let’s go.”

—

“It’s hot.”

“It’s summer. We’re at the beach.”

“I am aware of this information.”

“And I’m aware that it’s hot.”

James sighed, and he lay down on his belly, handing a bottle of sunscreen to Ron. “Do my back.”

Ron took it, squirting the sunscreen onto James’s back, rubbing it in slowly. “Drink something.”

“I will. You too. Can’t have you overheating in all those layers you’re wearing.”

Ron chuckled, glancing down at his frankly skimpy bathing suit. Half his ass was hanging out the back and the front wasn’t much better. “I do feel oddly overdressed.”

It was more than Ron wore when they were alone.

“Feel free to take it off. I doubt anyone would mind.” James waved a hand. “Based on the vibe in the air, I suspect we’re going to see some dick by the end of the day anyway.”

“You think?” Ron asked, looking around the beach. A lot of guys here, playing or sitting or swimming. He didn’t feel a vibe. “Is this one of those magical vibes, or a you had too much coffee vibe?”

“Who knows.” James sighed, put his head down as Ron did his shoulders. “Just mark my words. Dicks everywhere by the end of the day.”

“Not everyone here has one of those.”

“I know. But that’s the majority. There might be other parts everywhere too.” James looked up at Ron. “Sunscreen yourself too and then when it sets, I want to go look for seashells.”

“Okay,” Ron said, moving past the minimal fabric on James’s backside to his legs. “And I made us lunch, so we’ll eat after.”

“Perfect.” James put his head back down, let Run rub him with the sunscreen. “I’m having fun. I know it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I know you are,” Ron said, smiling to himself. “I’m having fun too.”

“Good.” James nodded. “It’s hot, though.”

“It is pretty hot,” Ron agreed, nodding as the sun beat down on them.

—

“Why is it so cold?”

Cal glanced at Sully, rubbing his bare arms. “Because we’re in a cave.” They’d found an awesome one not far from the main beach area.

“Should have brought a shirt,” Mick said, patting Sully’s shoulder.

“You guys didn’t!”

Indeed, none of them were in anything but their small bathing suits, Cal and Sully in their speedos, Wes in his low-hanging shorts and Mick in his tight short shorts. “Yeah,” Wes said, nodding. “But we’re used to it.”

“You could have warned me!”

“But we’re hazing you,” Mick reminded him.

“Speaking of which, go and check out that weird pool,” Cal said, pointing up ahead of them. There was a pool of water that seemed to be glowing, possibly with algae. Cal didn’t want to step in a pool of algae. Not when they had a new guy for stuff like that.

“Ew, no.”

Cal grinned at him. “You’re the one who wanted to join our team.”

“I know but…what if there’s like snakes in it or some shit?”

Cal leaned in, thumbs in his wasitband. “Why do you think you’re the one checking it out and not us?”

Sully looked from Cal to Wes to Mick, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine, God.” He stamped past Cal, towards the pool. “If I die, I want it carved on my tombstone that I hated you!”

Cal chuckled, watching him with the other two. “There’s probably nothing there, huh?”

“Probably,” Mick agreed, arms crossed. “Just some slippery algae.”

“His feet are going to glow the rest of the time we’re in here,” Wes pointed out.

“That’s handy.” Cal smiled up at the two of them. “Sorry, I dragged you both away from the beach for a cave.”

Wes shrugged. “Caves are cool.”

“And beaches are boring.”

“And we like you, remember?” Wes asked, patting Cal’s shoulder as Sully dipped his foot into the pool.

“I guess.” Cal grinned. “I do want to go treasure hunting on the beach, though. I brought my metal detector.”

“Oh,” Mick said, frowning.

“What?”

“I wonder if there might be leeches in there.”

All three of them looked up at Sully as he waded carefully into the pool. “Should we warn him?”

“Nah.”

“No.”

Cal nodded. “He’ll be fine.”

—

“This is the worst,” Isaac complained, laying back on the blanket.

Peter nudged him. “I think it’s pretty funny.”

Isaac glared at him. “You’re not the one in crisis here.”

“Hey.” Peter poked him this time. “I suggested you wear something different. You remember what you said?”

“I said I thought it would be fun,” Isaac grumbled.

“Yeah. You wanted to flaunt.”

Isaac sighed. Flaunting he was, he’d bought what was essentially a G-string online and worn it to the beach today for fun. He really liked it, like the screaming green colour of it, liked how small it was. The problem was that now he was at a beach crammed to bursting with sexy guys whose almost uniformly small bathing suits were also crammed to bursting and Isaac’s sexy swimwear was comprised of not nearly enough fabric to deal with the fallout from that.

There were sexy, mostly naked guys everywhere sweating and swimming and jiggling and dripping, suits clinging and hugging and showing off, and Isaac couldn’t look at any of them or he wouldn’t be able to fit into his own suit.

“Oh, look,” Peter said, tapping Isaac’s shoulder.

“What?”

“Your friend Leo. He just spilled his drink all over himself.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay, someone’s wiping it off his chest for him.”

“Peter.”

“And that guy’s speedo is riding up a lot, you can pretty much see…”

Isaac groaned, drowning Peter out as he started to have the very problem he was trying to avoid. Maybe he should just let it happen. People would think he was weird, but at least he’d be happier. It was an all-male beach anyway.

Beside him on the blanket, Baker barked, and Isaac looked up just in time to see a frisbee land in the sand just beside him. And running at them like a bat out of hell was a huge mastiff, who was obviously very concerned that Isaac was going to steal his toy.

“Oh, hell no,” Peter muttered, inching back a little.

“It’s okay,” Isaac said, picking up the frisbee while Baker ran over to intercept the other dog, who easily outweighed him by ten times. He held up the frisbee, and the dog came skidding to a halt in front of their blanket, spraying them with sand but not colliding, at least. Baker was bouncing around him, trying to get his attention while the new dog focused on the frisbee. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Isaac asked, patting his head.

“Sorry!” A kid was running up to them, fortunately both in loose shorts and too young for Isaac to be interested, so it was safe to look at him. “Sorry,” the kid repeated, panting. “We were throwing it for him. It got away from us.”

“It’s okay,” Isaac said, tossing the frisbee to the kid. The dog’s interested changed immediately. Baker was still trying desperately to get his attention. “What’s his name?”

“Dragon,” the kid said, smiling. “I should get back.”

“I think you’re going to end up with twice as many dogs as you came here with,” Isaac warned him, nodding at Baker.

“That’s okay. We’re just throwing the frisbee in the water so Dragon doesn’t get hot.”

The water. The water was cold. Isaac smiled. “Can I play? I’ll bring Baker.”

“Sure!” The kid grinned, and nodded over to the two guys he was playing with, both a good amount older than him. “I’m Frederick.”

“Isaac.” Isaac stood, smiling down at Peter. “I’ll be back.”

Peter nodded, grabbing his book. “Have fun.”

As Isaac trotted off to play with dogs in cold water, he chanced a glance around the beach. It looked like everyone was having fun. A lot of fun. He quickened his pace a little, trying to get to the cold water as quickly as he could. Then maybe he could have a lot of fun too.

—

Rowing was harder than it seemed, and Pax was glad that after this he was probably never going to have to do it again.

“How far did you want to go out?” Pax asked, trying not to pant like some exhausted malcontent. But they were pretty far out from the beach now, and though the sun was still beating down, the ocean wind was also chilly and Pax was worried that much farther and his lack of shirt was going to become a problem.

Many of the people on the beach were wearing very, very small bathing suits, which was okay for them. But Pax didn’t want to do that where there were so many people, so he was wearing a nice pair of shorts that were a good length. Nate could wear the speedo in this relationship as far as he was concerned.

“I guess this is far enough,” Nate said, pulling back his oar and stowing it between his feet on the floor of the little boat.

“Far enough for what?” Pax asked, looking back to the beach, which was very far away indeed. “What’s the point of coming all the way out to the beach with everyone if you’re just going to ignore everyone and go in a boat? Why did we go in a boat, anyway? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to spend time alone with you, but I’m just not sure about a boat as the medium for that. What if there are sharks?”

“There are no sharks,” Nate assured Pax, patting his leg. “I just wanted to bring you out here for a bit.”

“Out here? To the middle of the ocean? Why?”

“We’re hardly in the middle of the ocean.”

“We’re at least halfway to Portugal by now.”

“I brought food, but probably not enough to get us to Europe,” Nate mused, fiddling with is backpack, fishing inside and looking for something. “Anyway. Now that we’re out here where nobody can see us, I figured you could, um, take your bathing suit off.”

Pax blinked. “Sorry?”

“No reason to be shy if we’re alone, right?” Nate straightened, and he pulled a little speedo out of the bag, holding it up with a smile. “You just look kind of uncomfortable in those shorts.”

“Well…” Pax looked at the speedo, then at his shorts, then over at the beach, which was really quite far off. “There is a good bit of chafing…”

“So take them off.” Nate grinned.

“I feel like you’ve lured me out here under false pretenses,” Pax said, untying his shorts and slipping them down, taking the speedo from Nate and pulling it on. All with nary a rock to the boat, thank you very much.

“Maybe. But the ends justify the means, right?”

“Sometimes.” Pax did feel a lot better now. He smiled at Nate, setting his shorts on the bench beside him. “Just while we’re out here, though. I’m changing back before we go back.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They had a nice lunch on the boat. And then, just before they were about to start rowing back, a bird appeared from nowhere and stole Pax’s shorts.

—

Ice clinked as Edwin handed Gavin his drink. “Here you go.”

Gavin looked up at him, stretched in his beach chair like a stripper on display “Sorry?”

Edwin sighed, rolled his eyes. “Here you go, sir.”

“That’s better.” Gavin grinned, reached out to take the drink, then he frowned. “Where’s the little umbrella?”

“What?”

Gavin pointed at the iced tea. “It should have a little umbrella in it. You know, the ones they put in drinks on beaches? I want one of those.”

Edwin looked at the drink. “They didn’t put one in.”

“Go back and get me another drink that has an umbrella in it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, go back and get me another drink that has a little umbrella in it,” Gavin told him, raising a finger. “Not that drink, the ice will already be melting. This drink is already dead to me. A new drink, with a little umbrella in it.”

“Stop being a diva,” Owen muttered, on the next chair over. He was drinking his drink with no problem, even without an umbrella.

“This isn’t about being a diva, this is about the drinks people cheating us out of our beach experience.”

“I think it’s about being a diva and giving Edwin a hard time.”

“Giving Edwin a hard time is pretty fun,” Gavin admitted.

Owen nodded. “Fair. You heard the man, Edwin.”

Edwin rolled his eyes. “You’re both divas,” he muttered.

They looked at each other. Owen shrugged. Gavin held out his hand. “The drink.”

“I thought you didn’t want it!”

“I don’t. Give it to me.”

Getting a headache, Edwin did. Gavin took it, took out an ice cube, set the glass down, and grinned. He sucked on the ice cube for a second, then took it out of his mouth, his hand darting up to Edwin’s groin.

How he managed to do it Edwin didn’t know, but the ice cube ended up in the front of his bathing suit, Edwin dancing back a little. “Fuck, ah!”

“Let it melt,” Gavin ordered. “It should help you cool off. Now go get me my drink, and maybe think carefully about what bets you make next time you challenge someone to a friendly sporting match.”

“I’m going,” Edwin grumbled, trying not to do a funny dance as goosebumps ran down his legs.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going, _sir_ ,” Edwin muttered, turning away.

“I have another ice cube for you when you get back, so don’t dawdle.”

Edwin shot a look at Owen, who was grinning, and went to go get the stupid drink with the stupid umbrella.

“Stop being mean to him,” Owen said.

“Hold still so I can ice cube you too,” Gavin muttered. “And he likes it, it’s fine.”

“What do you like?” Ty asked, coming back from getting the two of them some popsicles.

“Shut up,” Edwin muttered.

“You know you got a wet spot on your…”

“The popsicles are melting,” Edwin told him, hurrying off, red in the face, fully aware of his wet spot. He was going to spend the rest of the day being ordered around like this. It was degrading. Maybe he should demand a rematch, double or nothing.

But then, Edwin didn’t want to fathom what the double would be if he lost again. The only way Gavin and Owen—but Gavin especially—could get more dictatorial would be…

By the time Edwin’s ice cube melted, he was looking forward to having another one.

—

“This is a waste of time.”

“It’s fun,” Henry insisted.

Sam snorted, laying back in the shade of the umbrella. “It’s fun if you’re an idiot.”

“Well, I guess that makes me an idiot,” Henry said, shifting on the sand beside the blanket.

“That’s not what makes you an idiot,” Sam muttered, sighing. “It’s just a symptom. You don’t have to sit here with me all day.”

Henry made a noise, a verbal act of noncommittal. “I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

“You don’t like sitting here with me,” Sam countered. “You’re doing it because you feel bad leaving me alone.”

Another noise. “No. I’m doing it because I want you to have a good time.”

“And it didn’t occur to you that I might have a better time without you?”

“That seems unlikely,” Henry said.

Sam didn’t have anything to say about that. Henry wasn’t wrong, exactly. He sighed. “Help me up. We can go for a walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Am I ever not sure?” Sam demanded, holding out his arm. Henry took it, and the two of them stood, Henry leading Sam out into the sun, slowly walking across the sand. “Maybe we can find some dumb kid and convince him to come home with…”

“No,” Henry interrupted, squeezing Sam’s arm. “We’re going to have normal people fun, not murdery psychopath fun.”

Sam sighed, loudly. “Fine.”

“No need to sound all dramatic.”

“I wasn’t sounding dramatic. I was expressing my disappointment at your banality.” Honestly, Henry didn’t understand the possibilities there were here.

Henry made another noise. “We’ll wait and find out how the day goes,” he said. “But for now we’re just having a nice walk.”

Sam gave another sigh, let Henry have his way, just this once. “If I trip on something…”

“I know, I know.”

Even without any actual sources of fun, Sam, thought, it ended up being not so bad.

—

“Are you guys, um, almost done?”

“Don’t know,” Marcus said, piling more sand onto the growing mound covering Daniel. “Can you move?”

Daniel probably could, if he tried. “No.”

“He’s lying,” Hugh said immediately, still smoothing out the sand on the other side of Daniel. “More sand.”

“Got it.”

“Why do you assume I’m lying?” Daniel asked, pretending to be affronted. Some sand fell on his face and he blew it off.

“Because you’re a liar,” Hugh reminded him, patting the mound.

“And doing a dress rehearsal for my own funeral is supposed to cure me of that?” Daniel asked, rather than denying it.

He wasn’t exaggerating, much. This was making him feel more and more like a corpse being interred.

“No,” Marcus said, looking up as Simon as he returned with buckets of water. “But it’s supposed to stop you from running off. Now you have to spend time with us.”

“Not sure where you thought I was going to run off to,” Daniel grumbled, smiling up at Simon as he distributed the pails. He was all red and sweaty. “Simon, take a break from water duty.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind…”

“Marcus can do it for a bit,” Hugh said, looking at Simon as well. “Go get a drink.”

“Get me one too,” Daniel told him, as Marcus got up to get more water, scratching his inner thigh at the hem of his speedo. “Sand in uncomfortable places?”

Marcus grunted. “Might…go for a short swim. Just to shake some things loose.”

“Think about how I must feel.”

Marcus grinned at him. “Too bad. Back in a bit.” Hugh had already emptied the two pails of water, so he took them and two more, and trotted off to the water.

Daniel sighed, some sand shifting as he did.

“Stop doing that.”

“What, breathing?” Daniel asked.

“The more disruptive you are, the longer this is going to take,” Hugh chided.

“What, do you have blueprints or something?” Daniel demanded, and Hugh just smiled, shifting a little and tugging at his own suit. “I’m taking vindictive pleasure in knowing you’ve got sand up there.”

“When we let you out, I’m stuffing your suit with sand.”

“Not going to fit much in there,” Daniel muttered.

“You’d be surprised.”

Hugh came back, opened a can of Pepsi and put it down in the sand beside Daniel, sticking a straw in it near Daniel’s mouth. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Daniel said, smiling at him and taking a sip. “You’re the only one I like.”

Simon crouched behind the can, inadvertently giving Daniel a close-up. “What do you want me to do?” he asked Hugh.

“Don’t die of dehydration,” Hugh told him. “And then start piling sand over here. It’s not thick enough.”

Daniel just sipped his drink, sighed. They were going to be here for a while. Hopefully they’d let him out someday.

—

“May have misjudged how long we were going to have this sandbar,” Franz said, as the tide came in.

Boey nodded, stretching out his shoulders, chest rippling a little as he did. “We should head back?”

“Yeah.” Franz started to stretch as well, preparing for the swim back to the beach. When Dragon had gotten tired of frisbee and gone off for a nap, they’d gone for a swim. Franz pointed to the beach, where Frederick and the two boys his age he’d found, Derek and Todd, were having footraces. “He changed.”

“Peer pressure will do that,” Boey agreed. Frederick had brought a speedo but been too shy to wear it before, but since meeting his new friends who weren’t as modest as he was, suddenly he’d developed the confidence to dress in less.

“I’m just glad he’s making friends.”

“As his dad, I can see why you would be.”

“Hey! I’m allowed to be happy for him.”

Boey smiled. “I know. I’m glad he’s got friends his own age too. You’re a terrible influence.”

Franz couldn’t argue that point. “Race you back?”

“Deal.” Boey raced into the water.

“Hey, wait, I wasn’t ready!” Franz charged after him, trying to mitigate Boey’s headstart, but it was too late. By the time they got back to the beach, Boey had a good lead over Franz, and Franz broke out of the surf, panting with exertion, doubled over and trying to breathe.

“You lose,” Boey said, standing in front of Franz. Franz looked up at him, about at eye level with Boey’s package, and saw Boey smirking down at him. “Guess you pay the penalty?”

“What penalty? Who said anything about a penalty?”

Boey patted Franz’s head. “It was implied.”

Franz snorted. “Fine. What’s the penalty?”

Hopefully it was something fun.

“I don’t know.” Boey turned away, water dripping off his form, hips swaying as he headed for their towels. “I’ll think of something and let you know.”

Franz looked forward to it.

—

“This is dumb,” Joey said, picking at his tiny, tiny bathing suit.

Travis sighed. “So I’ve heard. Take it off if you don’t like it.”

“You’re the one who made me wear it.”

“I made you wear something,” Travis corrected patiently. “You’re the one who decided to wear the smallest piece of spandex you could lay your hands on.”

And for being so small, it did a masterful job of outlining in detail exactly what little skin Joey wasn’t showing.

Joey scowled. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You should have worn something roomier.”

“I should have not worn anything. It’s an all-guys beach, bet nobody could care.”

Travis took a look around the beach. There was one guy over there wearing a t-shirt and some bulky shorts sitting in a group of guys and laughing at something the guy beside him had said, another in a heavy sort of tank top in addition to his trunks practicing some martial art, but other than the two of them nearly every guy on the beach was wearing a suit of next to nothing. Travis wasn’t sure he’d ever been around this many mostly-naked guys before. “Probably not,” he decided, watching the way a few of the guys on the beach were scoping each other out. “But still.”

Joey sighed dramatically. “I’ll keep it on.”

“Thank you.”

“For now.”

“Joey.”

“No promises, is all I’m saying.”

“Okay, okay.” Travis figured that was the best he was going to get. Joey only ever half-promised to be dressed in public.

“Oh,” Joey said, straightening and pointed at some people on the beach. “Isn’t that Cal? Are they looking for treasure?”

Travis glanced over and nodded. Cal was definitely there with a metal detector, Wes and Mick following him, Sully at a short distance, looking miffed as usual. “Yeah.” They seemed to have collected two other guys, a darkish guy with kind of long hair and a lighter guy who was a bit bigger, but seemed to be holding things for the first guy.

“Let’s go help them!” Joey said, jumping to his feet with a jiggle. “I want treasure too!”

Travis laughed. “Okay,” he said, getting up and following Joey down to the surf. “I’m coming.”

At least treasure would distract Joey from his hatred of clothes for a little while.

—

“This is nice,” Cordelia said, leaning back in her chair and sipping a cocktail.

“It is, isn’t it?” Isabella agreed, nodding. “Very quiet.”

“Convincing the boys to have their own beach was a good plan,” Natalie told Cordelia, tilting her glass in salute. “They can stay over there and do God knows what.” Beside her, Sharon chuckled.

“I don’t know,” Gabrielle said, swirling her drink. There were having a nice cocktail hour. Isabella’s idea. “I wouldn’t mind a little eye candy. Some of us like boys.”

“Hear, hear,” Holly muttered.

“Can’t relate,” Ariel said, grinning at Gabrielle. “Men are gross. Besides, lots of eye candy right here.”

“If you happen to like women, I guess,” Gabrielle muttered, with a blush.

“You don’t like women?” Cleo asked her, giving Gabrielle an openly flirtatious smile. Cordelia nearly laughed aloud. Young people were so funny.

“Women are just fine. I also like men is all.”

“I suppose we’ll allow that,” Cordelia conceded. “I mean, they’re right over there if you want to go peek on them.”

Why anyone would want to watch men or boys when they were alone was beyond her. But then, Cordelia understood (grudgingly) that not everyone was a lesbian.

“Be lying if I hadn’t thought about it,” Gabrielle said, pointing at Cordelia. “Thing is, my brother’s over there and I’m worried if I did, I’d catch him doing something I don’t want to know about with his boyfriend. Or, you know, whoever else he managed to snare in his web.”

Isabella laughed. “Then I guess you’re stuck here with us ladies.”

“Not bad company,” Natalie said, shifting in a way that made Cordelia wonder again how she fit into that bathing suit.

“No,” Gabrielle admitted, standing up to get another drink. “Not bad company. It’s nice to get away from men and talk to real people for a while. Anyone want more drinks?”

—

Any good day at the beach should end with an illegal bonfire. Squeezing upwards to three dozen guys around one fire had proved challenging, but they’d managed it by just making a really big fire and by having people creatively sit on each other’s laps where necessary.

They roasted hot dogs and drank pop and talked a lot, arms around each other, bodies pressed against each other, the fire cracking in between them all. Jokes were thrown around. Casual touching was the norm. Less-than-casual touching wasn’t uncommon either the longer the night went on and the longer they breathed in each other, fed off each other.

Gavin sat in Owen’s lap and laughed while he told Hector about how Edwin had eventually gotten fed up and demanded a rematch, which they’d let him win out of pity. Knowing that his victory hadn’t been earned, Edwin had taken it as a point of pride to keep getting Gavin drinks all day.

James compared treasures with Joey, endlessly frustrating Joey by refusing to give up any of the seashells he’d found, until Joey’s eyes alighted on one that he just obviously loved, the swirl pattern catching his eye, and James just smiled at let him have it in exchange for a funny rock Joey had found.

Cal rubbed ointment on Sully, telling him all the while that he needed to be more careful when wading into strange pools while Sully cussed him out and Mick took pictures. Beside them, Wes was chatting with Nate about this strange seabird he’d seen earlier with a pair of shorts in its talons.

Isaac had sat on Nicholas just to make him get all awkward and blushing, but Nicholas had taken to it full force, putting his arms around Isaac and holding him there to tease him. Isaac had given up on not getting too excited by the proximity of all these sexy guys. Peter just sat beside them and grinned, conspiring something with Skip and Boey.

Pax and Jacob were comparing stories at great length. Pax had been wearing one of Nate’s t-shirts, but he’d taken it off earlier. Beside them was Garrett, who’d come over because he’d felt kinship with Pax’s modesty but had stayed because he was entranced by the speed at which the two were speaking.

Edwin was explaining to his friends in no uncertain terms exactly how much fun he hadn’t had today, despite mounting evidence to the contrary in the way he smiled when Gavin or Owen looked in his direction.

Sam was mostly just resisting the urge to push someone into the fire, figuring he’d done what Henry wanted all day, he may as well keep doing it for a few more hours. Besides, it wasn’t the worst thing ever to just sit and talk. He hadn’t caught he name of whoever he ended up chatting with about politics, but they knew their stuff even if they were an idiot.

Freed from his sand catacomb, Daniel was still a little itchy and looking forward to the shower that the others had promised him. He sat between Marcus and Hugh with Simon in his lap even though really Simon should be sitting on Marcus, pointing out constellations to them and periodically stealing bits of Marcus’s hot dogs.

Franz found out that he and Sam had exactly none of the same political views, but hey, that made for good conversation. He kept casting glances at the three younger boys, who had swapped phone numbers and were having a hot dog eating contest over there. He had a feeling he’d be hosting a sleepover in the next week or so.

Travis and Henry turned out to like the same baseball, football and soccer teams, which gave them a lot to talk about until they found out they disagreed on hockey, which gave them even more to talk about.

The night wore on, darkness fell properly, and the moon was full. The waves crashed on the beach and the boys ate and were merry.


	99. Owen/Gavin, Size Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obnoxious weapons! Wielded by obnoxious knights.

“Oh my God, Owen.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Owen said, grinning as he hefted his sword over his shoulder.

“No.” Gavin pointed at him. “Put that down, get your regular sword.”

Owen looked at him innocently. “This is my regular sword. One of them, anyway.”

It was a two-handed broadsword that was as tall as he was. Franz had given it to him as thanks for saving his dog.

“No. That was a joke sword. Franz didn’t really mean for you to fight with it. If we go in there and try to fight orcs with it, you’re going to get killed.” Gavin had his arms crossed, standing firmly.

“Gavin,” Owen said patiently, lifting the sword a little in one hand. “Swords are all meant to be fought with, it’s just a matter of knowing how to use them. I’ve been practicing.”

“I am not having you die on me because you wanted to prove your manliness, Owen. No.”

“I’ve never died yet and I don’t plan to start.” Owen grinned. “And I don’t need to prove anything. There are a lot of orcs. This is the most efficient tool for the job.”

Owen mostly wanted to demonstrate that no sword was too big for him to handle, no matter what Franz thought.

Gavin sighed. “You are so obnoxious. Fine. But at least wear your armour.”

“Nah.”

“ _Owen_.”

Owen smiled again, set the sword down and took off his shirt. “Know your enemy, right? Figured I’d go full orc for this one. They fight in their smallclothes, don’t they?”

“Because those are their only clothes,” Gavin said, tapping his foot as he watched Owen undress.

Owen shrugged, shucked off the rest of his clothes and hefted the sword again. “Do we have any war paint?”

“I’m alerting the healers now that they’ll need to be ready for you.” Gavin turned away, prepared to stalk off.

“I’ll be fine!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Gavin,” Owen called. “Don’t you want to hear what I call it?”

Gavin stopped, looked over his shoulder at Owen, at the huge weapon. He sighed. “What?”

A toothy grin. “Little sword.”

Gavin looked at him for a second. Owen looked back. Gavin turned away. “You’re sleeping outside tonight.”

“Wait, what? Gavin! It’s funny, come on!” Owen followed after him, fully prepared to mow down orcs and fully prepared to convince Gavin of how great this all was, one way or the other.


	100. Daniel and the Golden Boys, Sixth Ranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the prompt today was magical boys, and instead of writing a short drabble, instead I wrote part one of a three-part series, because why not. Introducing the Golden Boys.

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus said, looking up at the boy trapped by the villain they’d encountered. They’d just been going to a movie together, and suddenly they’d been attacked by an evil concession stand employee who’d turned out to have superpowers granted to him by the evil Puppetmaster, black threads flying from his arms and legs as he was controlled from afar.

He’d taken a boy hostage and trapped him in a popcorn machine, slowly filling up with popcorn as they battled the monster. Once the theater had been cleared of screaming bystanders, Daniel, Hugh, Marcus, Trevor and Al had activated their Power Gems and transformed into the Golden Boys, releasing their powers to fight off evil, like they always did.

Clad now in their colour-coded ruffled V-necks, their white short shorts and their pixie boots and ribbon collars of matching colour, they faced off against the villain. But they were smeared with butter, roughed up from being pelted by kernels and candies, and sticky from having diet pop poured on them. And they were no closer to winning, and the popcorn machine was filling up, the hostage now pounding on the ceiling to try and escape.

“Give up, Golden Boys!” the Concession Stander shouted, pointing dramatically at them as if they weren’t the only people in the theatre. “You’ll never defeat the power of overpriced snacks! Capitalism always wins—the day and the souls of its labourers!”

“He’s right,” Hugh said, breathing heavy. Al was helping him stand. “I don’t think we can beat the greed of the theatre industry alone!”

“Don’t give up!” Marcus told him, chest heaving under his red V-neck. “We’re not alone, we have each other and the power of friendship! Let’s all charge at him at once and save that boy!”

The all nodded, squaring up for their attack, Gems shining with the inner light of friendship and justice. The five of them leapt, determined to rid the world of evil and destruction.

A wall of sour candies blocked their path, and arrows of licorice rained down on them. The Golden Boys fell back, unable to penetrate the sugared walls of capitalist entertainment. The Concession Stander laughed maniacally. The boy in the popcorn box cried out, and they all watched in despair as he was devoured by the popcorn in a sea of butter and irony.

Then, hope. “What’s that?” Daniel asked, pointing at the now-full popcorn box.

In it, was a light.

A light of friendship and justice.

Brilliant yellow, it outshone the fake popcorn butter and the fluorescent lights, it locked all their attention while the Concession Stander launched into his speech about the triumph of the almighty dollar, and it shone brighter and brighter. Cracks formed in the popcorn machine.

And the machine exploded outward, popcorn pelting everything. “What?” The Concession Stander demanded, turning around.

“Look!” Hugh said, though they all were.

The boy in the stand was floating, a glowing light at neck. That light enveloped him, casting his clothes away, a yellow patch growing outward from his belly and forming into a shirt and matching briefs, white shorts materializing from nothing and yellow pixie boots forming from a ribbon out of nowhere. The ruffles on the V-neck formed last, and the ribbon around his neck, housing a yellow gemstone. “That’s a Power Gem!” Daniel said, shocked.

“What?” The Concession Stander demanded, taking a step back. “Another Golden Boy? There are only supposed to be five!”

The yellow Golden Boy opened his eyes, looked around. “What…”

“Attack!” Marcus said, hurried. “While he’s distracted, go!”

They went, launching attack after attack at the Concession Stander. Daniel leapt over and landed beside the new boy, who was standing in a pile of popcorn. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “We need your help.”

“But I’m not…you guys are the Golden Boys!”

“Yeah.” Daniel nodded. “And we need your help. Come on, focus your power and think about friendship and justice!”

“How?”

“Just do it—the power is inside you!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

But there was no time to explain as a stream of scalding butter substitute came their way and they had to leap aside or be burnt.

Daniel coached the new boy through it the whole fight, and when it came time to land the final blow, he was finally able to tap into his power, overwhelming the power of the Concession Stander all on his own in a brilliant display of lightning.

As the puppet strings faded away and the Concession Stander’s heart was purified, the Golden Boys gathered around the new boy. “That was awesome!” Marcus told him.

“We’re glad you’re okay,” Hugh said, taking his hand. “Are you hurt?”

“That move with the lightning was amazing,” Trevor told him, grinning as he patted the new boy on the back.

“Welcome to our team,” Al said.

“What’s your name?” Daniel’s question cut through all of theirs, and he looked the new boy in the eye.

“Uh…Simon.” The new boy smiled at him. “I’m Simon.”

“We should get out of here,” Marcus said, looking up at the sound of sirens. “Come on, we’ll get pizza.”

“I want a shower,” Hugh complained, tugging at his sticky hair.

“Do you have stuff somewhere?” Daniel asked Simon as they trotted over to the corner where they’d stowed their backpacks before transforming.

“I have my gym bag somewhere,” Simon said, looking around. “Oh, there it is.” He ran over and got it, joining them as they were preparing to drop transformation.

“Put your hand on the Gem,” Daniel instructed him, smiling. “And focus on your power, push it down. Drops your transformation. Can’t exactly get lunch looking like a Golden Boy.”

“I guess not,” Simon said, with a chuckle, doing as Daniel told him. A moment later, they were all engulfed in light, and then they were standing there in nothing. Simon eeped, hand coming down to cover himself. “Um!”

“Yeah, oops,” Marcus said, laughing a little. “Forgot to mention that. The clothes just kind of…go away when we transform. We haven’t figured that part out yet.”

“Do you have a spare set in there?” Hugh asked him, already rooting through his bag for his spares.

“I have my running clothes,” Simon choked, face flaming as he tried to hide himself and dig through his bag all at once.

“You’ll get used to it,” Daniel told him, still smiling. “And make sure you start carrying a change of clothes with you everywhere. You never know when evil will rear its head and attack.”

“The worst is when we have to fight stuff more than once a day,” Trevor complained, pulling on his shirt. “That’s always tricky.”

“You can always strip before you transform,” Al told Simon. “Just sometimes there’s no time.”

“Shoes are the worst,” Hugh said. “They’re so expensive to replace all the time. Always take off your shoes before using your powers.”

“I feel like I should write this down.” With gym shorts on now, Simon was confident enough to talk at least.

“You’ll be fine,” Daniel said, patting Simon’s arm. “We’re here to help you. That’s our power. The power of friendship.”

“I wish we could have the power of pants,” Simon muttered, and they all laughed.

Five Golden Boys had come into the theatre. Six Golden Boys left, a new teammate, a new power, a new friend in their midst.


	101. The Golden Boys, Showdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the Golden Boys trilogy, featuring the villains and some others.

It was time for the final battle.

The Castle of Dark Despair had appeared right in the middle of the park downtown, casting the whole town under clouds of depression and anxiety. Monsters flew from its rooves, and assailed everyone, devouring the whole city in the great maw of evil.

The Golden Boys had rushed to the castle, fighting all the way, and broken through the front gates. “Okay, guys—one more battle and we can end the Puppetmaster’s reign of terror forever!” Marcus said, pumping his fist in the air as they paused outside the huge double doors that would lead to his throne room.

“Let’s do it,” Hugh said, nodding. “For everyone out there.”

“Yeah.” Marcus grinned, and they did a team fist bump.

Marcus turned, pushed the doors to the throne room open with a bang, and the six of them entered the darkened chamber, stopping when the doors shut behind them. “Come out of the dark, Puppetmaster!” Marcus shouted. “Your days of terrorizing innocent people are over! The Golden Boys are here to stop your rampage!”

Silence, for a moment. And then laughter. A high cackle that filled the air, reverberating all around them. “You’ve got bad information, Golden Boys,” a voice sneered. “The Puppetmaster has never sat on the Throne of Despair.”

“What?” Marcus demanded, fire flickering to life in his hand but doing nothing to light the room. “Who are you?”

A lone light appeared at the end of the room, illuminating two people. One was standing from the throne, in an unbuttoned leather coat and heeled boots, a whip at his side, and a black mask covering his whole face. And nothing else, there was nothing under the coat but a thong. Beside him was a taller guy in tight leather straps and not much else, looming and holding a sword. “Don’t tell me you don’t know your history,” the one on the throne said, derision in his voice.

“No games,” Marcus demanded, as Simon clung to Daniel’s arm. “We’re here to stop you, whoever you are. You can’t beat the power of our friendship!”

“Ah.” The villain tilted his head. “Yes. The power of friendship. I _hate_ the power of friendship. But you know what? I’m not the only one. Turns out there are a lot of us who hate it that you people gather together in your little clubs to fight evil and right injustice. A lot of us who hate that we’re always losing to groups of cute boys in tight pants. So.” The villain took a step down from his throne, descending what looked like a dais. “We decided to try using the hated power of friendship out for ourselves.”

Another light flickered beside him, illuminating the man Daniel knew was the Puppetmaster, a man in a tailored military uniform, strings emerging from his hands to the various naked figures crouched beside and around him. Behind him stood a pale, ephemeral figure with no shirt, glowing without putting off any light.

The villain took another step, and another light came on. Simon took in a fearful breath, and Daniel stepped back. A tall woman with horns stood there, black dress reaching the ground. The Lady of Fear, queen of hell.

Another step, another light. A villain Daniel didn’t recognize but who had to be the Centipede, if only because of the centipedes crawling up and down his arms. He was almost naked, dirty and surrounded by bugs.

Another step. Another villain Daniel didn’t know, not even by name. Clad in nothing but bones that he hoped weren’t human, he looked down on them like a king on his peasants.

The main villain took the last step, and more lights flickered on all around him. Lady Death, the necromancer. The Scorpion, in his green body paint and codpiece. The Birds of Prey with their feather pasties. The Turncoat. Villains Daniel didn’t recognize. So many. Too many.

“How do you like being the ones outnumbered for once?” The unnamed villain asked them, smirking behind his mask. He was wearing a crown, too.

“We’re not afraid of you!” Marcus shouted, despite the fact that they very much were. “We’ll beat you, all of you! Evil can never triumph over the power of justice!”

“And friendship, I know.” A snort, and the villain raised his hands. A power, a wave started in them, spreading outward, assailing them before they could do anything.

And in a flash of light that died like a sun collapsing into a black hole, the power of the Power Gems vanished, their transformations leaving them, leaving the six of them standing there, naked and defenceless.

“Daniel…” Simon said, hiding behind him.

“Don’t be afraid,” Daniel said, taking a fighting stance. “It’ll be okay.”

“How?”

Daniel didn’t know, but he couldn’t let himself despair. Despair was the enemy of a Golden Boy.

“Since the power of friendship is so strong,” the villain sneered, “let’s have it help you now, hm?”

“Who are you?”

“You really don’t know? They don’t teach new heroes anything these days. I’m the first bringer of despair, and the last. I’m the Throne of Darkness. I’m the Destroyer of Empire. I’m the Black Hole. I’m the scion of devastation, the lord of the apocalypse.”

Daniel felt his breath catch as he realized. The crown, the mask, the ominous presence, the practiced evil speech. “You’re…you’re the King of Nothing.”

A cold silence fell over them as he said the name, a name spoken of only in hushed tones even now, even now when he was supposed to be dead. And he wasn’t dead.

“Gold star. Someone paid attention in history class. Yes, I’m the King of Nothing. And now, Golden Boys, nothing is what you will be.” The King of Nothing raised his hands, power crackling between them. And that power crackled outward in a wave, one they couldn’t block, couldn’t escape. They had no power, no shield, no way out, nothing to do but stand there and…

A gold shield erupted into being in front of them, and the crash of power was blinding for a moment. When the light passed, six figures were standing there. One in gold armour on his chest, with a flaming sword. Another with pointed boots and a hat, tunic of gold thread. One with a golden staff, shimmering with power. Another with a golden blade, from which emanated the shield. One with a rapier, golden gloves on his hands. And one with no weapon, gold finery protecting him. All six of them clad in shining gold brief-cut shorts with gems on their belts.

“Oh, my God,’ Daniel whispered, as Simon clung to him so hard it hurt. “You’re…you’re the Golden Boys.”

“What?” Marcus looked at Daniel, eyes wide. “You mean…”

“The original Golden Boys!” Daniel said, heart pounding.

The Gold Knight turned, smiled at them. “Sorry we’re late. Had to dig up the old armour.”

“You guys have been doing a good job,” the Aegis said, letting down the shield. “We didn’t want to step on your toes. But this might be a bit much for you alone.”

“I didn’t expect them all to be here,” The Gold Witch muttered, staff moving. “Good thing we came.”

“And you wanted to stay home.” The Golden Prince had a smile on his face.

“Can we focus on this and banter later?” The Gold Fencer asked.

“There’s time for both,” the Archer told them, stepping forward. “Hey there, Sam. You look good for a dead guy. See you made some friends. You seem to have missed the point of our whole big power of friendship speech from back in the day. You need to hear it again?”

The King of Nothing cackled again. “Oh, it must be my birthday. A dozen Golden Boys for the price of six. I should have known you idiots would charge right in without checking how dangerous it was. You can’t beat all of us at once!”

He was right, Daniel saw. They’d lost their powers, but even if they hadn’t, even if all twelve of them fought, they couldn’t beat these assembled villains. It was impossible. Even the power of friendship couldn’t…

The Gold Archer just chuckled. “That’s my line, Sam.” And he nocked an arrow, pointed it up. “I know you can’t see this, but you can probably get the gist. Just imagine dramatic music in the background. Actually, Owen, play some dramatic music on your phone.”

“My…” The Gold Knight shook his head. “Gavin, my phone is in my pants. At home.”

“Oh.” The Gold Archer sighed, disappointed. “Okay. We’ll, everyone pretend there’s some dramatic music now, okay?”

And he fired his arrow, up to the ceiling.

When it hit, it illuminated the throne room in vibrant light, and when his vision cleared, Daniel saw that there were far more than twelve of them.

Against the left wall, the Treasure Team. Six guys in matching black and white leotards, tight as skin, covered in pouches and pockets. Daniel nearly squealed at that, because their leader, the One Who Comes Back, was his heroic idol, the one whose existence had convinced Daniel he could be a good Golden Boy even with his height deficiency. He saluted Daniel, and Daniel was going to remember that until he died.

He forced himself to look away, up at the balcony above their heads, where the Magical Six were standing in the flowing tunics that came halfway down the thigh, forever feeding speculation about what they were wearing underneath, if anything. They were led by a sprightly guy with a cocky grin, and he waved at them.

Against the right wall were the Street Smart Gang, who’d led the charge to fight small time crime and protect ordinary people. They already had their weapons out, shirtless Cabin Boy and pantsless First Matey twirling knives already, the four Alley Knights with swords aglow, armour stopping at the cup. One team where there’d been two, once upon a time.

Every retired hero team in the city had come to fight the final battle with them. Daniel was going to cry. He wondered if it was bad form to ask everyone for their autographs at the end of the word.

“Hm.” The Gold Knight said, looking the six of them over. “We never did figure out how to fix the whole problem with our clothes disappearing.” He smiled at them, and Daniel was suddenly self-conscious. These guys were all so…heroic, and he was just Daniel without his armour. “Guys? We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“Yeah.”

They raised weapons, the Golden Boys, the Treasure Team, the Magical Six and the Street Smart Gang, and a warm light filled the air, power filled their hearts. And their Power Gems glowed, and Daniel felt his powers coming back, wrapping around him, stretching across his chest and between his legs, forming his shirt and briefs, his shorts appearing from the air, ribbon wrapping around his neck, his feet.

And when the light faded, Daniel and the other Golden Boys had their powers—and costumes—back. “Yeah!” Marcus cheered. “Alright, now we’re in business!”

A loud snort from the King of Nothing. “It won’t help you. Call whoever you want, share power with whoever you want. You can’t beat us. Not all of us. Not all at once. If only I’d thought of this sooner.”

“Oh, shut up,” the Gold Archer told the King of Nothing. “You know, I rehearsed that power of friendship speech? I rehearsed it for _days_ , Sam.”

“He did rehearse it for days,” the Gold Knight confirmed.

“And I’m annoyed that it didn’t get through your thick skull. So this time we’re going to give you a real practical demonstration.” The Gold Archer raised his hand, pointed towards the assembled villains, who were readying to fight. “Come on, guys. Let’s show them what we can do together!”

A cheer rose up from the assembled teams, and Daniel and the Golden boys joined in. Together, they ran into the final battle, the final fight against evil. Together, he knew they would win.

Because there was no force on earth stronger than the power of friendship.


	102. The Golden Boys, The Power of Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion to the Golden Boys trilogy! This definitely ended up being my favourite part of Magic Meat March.

The battle raged. The world’s greatest heroes and most terrifying villains faced off in an all out brawl in which, at long last, one or the other would triumph once and for all. The fate of the world hung in the balance of their battle today.

Daniel slid back under an assault from the Scorpion. His minions were on the ground around him, disintegrating into motes of darkness, and now Daniel and the other Golden Boys had him surrounded. But he was formidable, tail-whips moving faster than they could see, and his defence was impenetrable.

“He’s only got two tails!” Marcus called out, breathing hard. “He can’t attack all of us at once—surround him!”

The Golden Boys nodded, leaping into position in a circle around the Scorpion. He laughed at them. “Fools, you think this will work?”

“Get him!” At Marcus’s command, all six of them leapt at the Scorpion, who smirked and hunched forward.

In a slash, he span his tails around in a circle, striking all of them and sending them to the ground.

“Ah…” Daniel said, rubbing his arm as he sat up. His shirt was disintegrating into green particles. The Power Gems rendered the Golden Boys invincible, but after enough abuse their armour started to take a beating.

“Try again,” Marcus said, as, shirtless as a team, they all stood. “That was just a fluke. He…”

The Scorpion suddenly reared, struck with lightning bolts from above. “Get him,” a voice said. “Quickly.”

The Golden Boys moved, leaping on him and grabbing him, one on each limb or tail. Together, they unleashed their purifying power with the Scorpion in their grip, and shone with the inner light of justice as they freed his heart from evil.

As his scorpion gear vanished, they were left holding a naked and now not-evil man, who they carefully moved over to the side of the room. Daniel looked up and smiled as the leader of the Magical Six came over to them. Daniel wondered if he used magic to let that shirt cover him without riding up in battle. There was certainly a lot of thigh on display. “Don’t underestimate any of these guys,” he said to them. “They’re dangerous.”

They nodded their agreement, and the battle picked up again. Daniel lost his boots when he got in between Cabin Boy and the bone guy, who hit him with his sceptre and had Daniel flying into Cabin Boy, who he was not planning on having a face-to-loincloth meeting with, but there it was. “Sorry,” Daniel said as he got up.

“No problem,” Cabin Boy smiled at him. “I’m Pax.”

“Daniel.”

Cabin Boy—Pax nodded, jiggling a lot between his legs. “Let’s get him.”

They did, working together with their knives flashing, managing to get the guy into a corner with the help of the other Golden Boys. Daniel got to use a move he’d practiced but never tried out for real—a horizontal spinning kick and he took bone guy in the face with, knocking him into a pillar and following up by tossing a knife into his crown, which cracked. “Was that…one of my moves?” Cabin Boy asked.

Blushing a little, Daniel nodded. “When I got my powers, I…watched all of your YouTube videos.” And all of…everyone’s YouTube videos. He’d been a bit nervous that he wouldn’t live up and had wanted to do his best.

“Wow, that’s flattering. I’m flattered. In a platonic way. I’m taken. You understand.”

“I wasn’t…” Daniel blushed crimson, and nodded. “I understand?”

The bone guy shouted and pushed them all back in an explosion of power that had him crashing into Cabin Boy’s chest, his hand on a pec, which he squished by accident. By accident!

But Cabin Boy just set him right and they went about fighting back the bone guy, which eventually took the whole rest of the Street Smart Gang and the other Golden Boys before they knocked him out.

“Who was that?” Daniel asked, wishing the floor wasn’t so cold.

“The Sea King,” First Matey told him, looking Cabin Boy over for injuries. “He was never big news, and he was before your time.”

“Can we do the history lesson later?” One of the Alley Knights asked, shifting uncomfortably, a few pieces of his armour missing and providing a window onto his chest. “We’ve still got…oh, damn.”

The Lady of Fear was there, smiling cruelly at them. The twelve of them readied weapons, and she raised her hands.

Daniel didn’t remember most of that part of the battle after, only that when it was over, all six Golden Boys were down to their magic briefs, the Street Smart Gang was mostly in tatters and the Treasure Team had come over to help too, and the One Who Comes Back gave Daniel a hand to help him up, standing from his position between Marcus’s legs. “You good?”

“We’re okay,” Daniel panted, smiling at his hero. “Thanks.”

“It’s a good thing she got bored,” he said, looking at the spot where the Lady of Fear had disappeared. “Or else we might have been screwed. Or at least so says Sully,” he added, pointing to one of his team. “I think we could have taken her.”

“I think you’re a dumbass,” Sully pointed out.

“Hey…” Simon tugged on Daniel’s arm, looking worried. “What…happens if we get hit hard enough like this? We don’t have much…armour left.”

“Um…”

“We’ve never…gotten that far,” Marcus admitted, looking down. “So let’s just try not to get hit hard enough, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Hello, Golden Boys. Nice to finally meet you in person.”

Daniel froze, and they all turned to face their archenemy, the Puppetmaster. “You!” Marcus shouted, pointing. “You’re going down. Right now!”

“I should like to see your attempt.” He was an attractive, tall man with regal features and long hands.

“They won’t be attempting alone,” the One Who Comes Back said, and all around the Puppetmaster, weapons were drawn.

The Puppetmaster smirked, and raised his hands, a dozen puppets appearing, ghosts of past villains the Golden Boys had fought together. “Very well.”

“We just have to take him down and then it’s the King of Nothing,” Marcus said, looking over to where the original six Golden Boys were fighting the King of Nothing and his partner on the dias, power flashing through the room. As they watched, the Aegis stood, thigh muscles rippling as he faced down an onslaught. The Golden Witch was distracted duelling Lady Death. The Fencer and the Golden Prince were tied up by the King’s partner—literally. His leather straps had them both bound in an X, struggling to break free. “Let’s get it done so we can help them.”

The fight with the Puppetmaster was just as harrowing as Daniel had always feared it would be, leaving all of them in nothing but scraps of armour, but between them all they managed to cut the strings on all his puppets, leaving him alone, backing him into a corner. “Please,” he said. “Spare me…”

The leader of the Alley Knights cut his head off, and the Puppetmaster fell to the ground.

“Whoa!” Marcus said, stepping forward. The Golden Boys didn’t kill. “You didn’t have to…”

The Alley Knight, left in just his cup, nodded down at the body, which was disintegrating into darkness. “He was never really here. Just a puppet like the rest. Did you notice his friend disappear before? His real body is probably deeper in the castle somewhere. Once we’re done here, we’ll…”

On the dais, the King of Nothing snarled in frustration suddenly, leaping into the air and staying there, his coat flaring out. He was shrouded in a veil of darkness, and in what looked to Daniel like the same process that transformed them into the Golden Boys, his clothes flew away and the dark formed into a short top, connected to short shorts by suspenders, and leather boots. He seemed to have found makeup, and he vibrated with a power that kept him hovering in the air. “Congratulations,” he said, sneering. “You’ve the privilege of meeting my true power!”

“Well, shit,” the Golden Archer said, putting his hand out. “Careful, everyone!”

There was no time to be careful. Power lashed out from the King of Nothing, and all six of the original Golden Boys fell to the ground, armour shattering.

“We have to help!” Marcus said, starting towards them.

“You can’t!” the leader of the Magical Six said, reaching out to stop him.

“Helping the defenceless is what Golden Boys do!” Marcus shouted. “Come on!”

Marcus was right, and the Golden Boys went, leaping in front of their fallen predecessors without a thought for anything but protecting good from evil. They held hands in front of the King of Nothing’s attack, forming a golden shield in front of their new friends, because no power on earth was stronger than the power of friendship.

But the shield cracked, and with it so did the Golden Boys’ armour, and all six of them were blown back, landing in a pile with the others, stripped of everything. And their Power Gems shattered, leaving them as…nothing.

“And this is where your power of friendship gets you,” The King of Nothing sneered, approaching them at a slow walk. “In a pile in front of me, where you belong. Now, I will extinguish you from the world, rid myself of your menace, and usher in a new ear of despair!”

“No,” Marcus said, disentangling himself from the naked Gold Knight and standing, shaky, to oppose the evil king. “We won’t let you.”

“And how will you stop me?” The King of Nothing laughed. “You have nothing. No power, no armour, nothing.”

“We have our friends,” Marcus said. “We have each other.”

“He’s right,” Daniel said, standing as well. One by one, all of them did, facing down the king no matter what they had. “We’ll never give up. And we’ll never lose to you!”

“Someone like you will never defeat us!” Hugh agreed, shaking.

“Not as long as we’re together,” Al said.

“Not as long as we have our friends,” Trevor added.

“Because…” Simon didn’t sound as nervous as usual, and he didn’t stand behind Daniel this time. “Because we’re the Golden Boys! And you’re nothing!”

“I’m your king,” The King of Nothing said, stepping closer and raising his hands. “And your executioner.”

“Get out of his way!” the Gold Archer shouted from behind them. “Without your armour…”

“We’re not backing down!” Marcus called, the King of Nothing’s power rising to a shout in the throne room. “We’re the Golden Boys—we stand up to evil no matter what!”

“No matter what!” The rest of them shouted along.

The King of Nothing smirked. “Henry.”

Leather straps came out of nowhere, tying them all up, lifting them into the air. The king’s partner stepped forward, silent as they struggled to free themselves from the grip of his power, held in place by the merciless straps. “Let us go!”

“No,” The King of Nothing said, raising his hand, a black smoke appearing, swirling around, growing larger. “I shall devour you in darkness and despair, and make you mine.”

“No!” Marcus shouted, but there was nothing they could do, the mist grew and grew, the others were out of commission, and there was nothing to stop it get closer, and closer and heavier, and stronger and darker and…

And it stopped at a golden light, roiling back. “What?” the king demanded.

That was a good question, Daniel thought, looking around for the source of the light. “There!” Simon said, pointing up.

Above them, above each of them, was a glowing source of light, a golden gem.

“But…I destroyed them!” the King of Nothing shouted, taking a step back.

The gems floated down, one to each Golden Boy, and as it passed by Daniel’s face he saw himself reflected in it, in his armour, smiling. The gems proceeded lower, stopping between their legs. Where, with an eruption of power, the Golden Boys were enveloped in radiant light, lifted up, the leather melting away as if it wasn’t there. Daniel felt warm power flow over him, inside him, cascading across his body in waves of iridescent justice. From the new Power Gem emerged streamers of light that wrapped around his waist and between his legs, forming a large green bow that then burst into a million raindrops of light, leaving Daniel in a pair of tight golden briefs with a green waistband, the Power Gem set into the front.

His new armour.

Daniel felt ten times as powerful as he had before as he landed, awash in a gold glow, and saw his friends in their new uniforms as well. They smiled at each other. “This is awesome,” Daniel said.

“Yeah!” Marcus agreed, but he turned to face the King of Nothing. “But there’s no time to celebrate—let’s get to work.”

All six Golden Boys turned, faced their enemy, who sneered at them. “You think some new power is going to stop me from annihilating you?” he demanded, raising his hands again. Pure darkness formed there, prepared to strike.

“You’ll never defeat us!” Marcus shouted, and he leapt at the King of Nothing, the others following suit. They fought him, hit him, pushed him back, until he staggered, his top ripped, one suspender snapped, his shorts sagging. “Get him, guys!”

“I don’t think so,” the King of Nothing snarled, darkness and shadow dripping from his fingers. He was covered in dark, and is threatened to drown out everything. “I will destroy you. I will destroy everything!”

“No darkness can stand against the light of friendship!” Marcus told him, and he released his power, the others following suit, until the room was a duel between the King of Nothing’s dark and the Golden Boys light, pressing against each other, fighting for supremacy.

It wasn’t enough—the King of Nothing’s power started to exceed theirs, pushing them back.

Until Daniel heard a voice. “Come on, guys! We’ve got to give them our power—the Golden Boys are our only hope!”

Daniel chanced a look over his shoulder, and he saw all of them, all the original Golden Boys, the Treasure Team, the Street Smart Gang and the Magical Six, linking arms, power floating around them in waves of light, and directing those towards the six of them, towards Daniel and his friends.

Daniel reached out and grabbed Simon’s arm on one side, Marcus’s on the other, knowing instinctively what to do. The Golden Boys grabbed hands, making a chain, amplifying their power.

Daniel had never felt this way. He felt so warm, so connected to his friends, so powerful. He was going to explode with all the power and friendship that was entering into him from behind as the others all gave over what was left of their power to the Golden Boys, making them their last hope. The power that was flowing into the six of them surged, pushing them all to their very limits, until, all at once, it exploded out, the gems on the front of their armour shining brilliantly and sending out six pulses of white light. The Golden Boys were overcome with the feelings of friendship and love that the power gave them and they cried out as a collective as the six beans of light coalesced into one, firing into the King of Nothing, searing his darkness, slashing through his despair.

The King of Nothing screamed, Henry hurrying to his side—but to no avail. Nothing could stand against the power of friendship given radiant form. With twin shouts, both of them succumbed to the light, disintegrating into motes of blackness that were purified and became golden. The whole castle suffered the King’s fate, collapsing around them in cascades of light and hope.

When it was all said and done the castle evaporated, and they were left standing there in the park, all of them together, the veil of darkness lifting from over the town. All the other boys were stark naked, giving up the last of their power having taken away their remaining armour. But it didn’t matter, because evil was vanquished.

Exertion catching up with them, the Golden Boys transformations dropped all at once, their new Power Gems falling to the ground and leaving them just as skyclad as their new friends. “We…we did it!” Marcus shouted.

They cheered, all of them, and Daniel hugged Simon and Marcus hugged Daniel and Hugh hugged Marcus and Trevor and all hugged all of them. The other guys were all hugging and cheering and laughing too, and the hugs got closer and merged together until all of them were hugging each other in one big hugging pile, pressed up against each other, laughing, collectively unconcerned with what was touching what as they celebrated their victory. There were no boundaries among friends. There was no hesitation among friends. And currently there were no clothes among friends, and that was okay with them. They’d rid the world of evil today; pants could come later.

Exhaustion started to catch up with them and they ended up laying and sitting in the grass, leaning on each other or in each other’s laps or laying right on top of one another or holding hands, just laughing and enjoying life and looking up at the clear blue sky, and at the light of hope that was shining down on them all.

Daniel had never felt more at home, more powerful or more loved, than he did that afternoon. And he had never been more certain, laying there, surrounded by friends in a world free from despair, of the one thing he knew for absolute certain.

There was no power on earth stronger than the power of friendship.


	103. Everyone, Slumber Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my last Magic Meat March entry, here's a fun sleepover with all the guys, suggested by my partner.

“Do you think this seems good?”

Owen looked around at the huge basement room in Gavin’s house, which they’d transformed into a field of blankets, pillows, air mattresses, and snack tables. “Yeah, I’d say it seems good.”

“Okay,” Gavin said, nodding. “Cool. Should be fun.”

Owen put his arm around Gavin, grinning. “It’s going to be awesome, Gavin.”

He knew Gavin was nervous about hosting this sleepover—which was hilarious, because Gavin didn’t get nervous about telling off the Prime Minister for his environmental positions, but apparently he was nervous about having a bunch of guys over to sleep in his house. It was cute.

“I just want people to have a good time.”

“There’s food and their friends are going to be here and you’ve got everything they could ever want set up down here,” Owen assured him. “They’re going to have fun.” Owen didn’t actually know a bunch of the guys who were coming. It had turned into one of those ‘invite your friends, invite their friends’ things, but that was cool. There was nothing like being half dressed with a bunch of guys at three in the morning to build friendships.

Speaking of which… “We’re already violating the dress code,” Owen told Gavin, gesturing at both of them and their totally-dressed states. They’d all decided in advance on Facebook that it was pyjamas or underwear and that was the only acceptable clothing to wear. A few guys had asked whether no clothing was acceptable, which they’d decided to play by ear for now.

Gavin grinned at him. “We’ve got a bit of time before anyone gets here. Let’s go get changed. And maybe we can break in a few of those air mattresses.”

Owen laughed and started to lead Gavin away. It was going to be a good night.

—

“About the dress code,” James said as they pulled into the driveway.

“You worried?” Ron asked, parking.

“No.” James hefted his bag. He hadn’t wanted to come to this sleepover, but Ron had convinced him. His bag was full of sketchbooks and other books and his deck of Tarot cards and other paraphernalia in case he got bored, though Ron was pretty sure some of it was destined to make him kind of popular, especially as it got later into the night. “I just want to say that if the dress code gets relaxed like your cousin was saying on the computer, feel free to wear what you want.”

Ron smiled, and he kissed James on the cheek. “Okay. It’s going to be fun.”

“If you say so.”

They got out, went up the walkway to Owen’s boyfriend’s swank as hell house, where they rang the bell and were let in by Owen, in a t-shirt and boxers branded with his favourite hockey team. “Hey!” Owen punched Ron in the arm. “You’re here! Hi James.”

“Hello, Owen. I see your commitment to sports runs deep. That’s a baseball team, right?”

“Close enough,” Ron said, before Owen could make a crack. They came into the house, ditching their shoes by the door, and followed Owen to the basement. “Fuck, I always forget that you dated rich.”

“The rich was a secondary benefit,” Owen said. “I’m glad you guys came.”

“Ron made me. He promised food and fun.”

“We’ve got those in spades,” Owen promised, leading them downstairs, to where Gavin was sitting on an air mattress, scrolling through his phone, also in a t-shirt and boxers, branded with very much the wrong hockey team.

“Why are you dating him again?” Ron asked, glaring.

“It’s an eternal mystery,” Owen grumbled, while Gavin gave them the finger. “Anyway, come on in and get comfortable. Everyone else should be getting here soon.”

“Hi, James,” Gavin said, waving. “Thank you for bringing someone to distract Owen so the big boys can play uninterrupted. They can sit in the corner and talk about sports while we have fun.”

“Don’t you like sports too?” James asked, looking around as he set his bag down, carefully unbuttoning his pants.

“Yeah, but only the teams worth liking. Come on in, we’ve got lots of food and stuff. Some of it’s even healthy.”

“Gods forbid,” James said, smiling.

Ron smiled at Owen. “Thanks for the invite,” he said.

“Course,” Owen said, patting his shoulder. “I need someone who’s not a heretic on my side. Now take your pants off.”

—

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” Cal said, but only after they’d gotten there, gotten inside and were about to change. He smiled at Sully. “What were you going to sleep in?”

“Just…my clothes, I guess?” Sully said with a shrug. “I usually don’t bother with anything, but with people around…”

“Mm,” Cal said, grinning at Wes and Mick as the three of them started taking shirts off. “Thing is, it’s pyjamas or underwear only. Got to take something off, Sully.”

“What…” Sully’s face went a little splotchy. “You waited until we were here on purpose.” Looking around, the proof of Cal’s statement was everywhere. Nobody already here was dressed in anything remotely resembling Sully’s jeans.

“Yeah.” Cal stole Wes’s discarded shirt and pulled it on, then undid his belt and dropped his pants. Behind him, Mick was stripping down to his wife beater and boxers, and Wes was shucking his clothes entirely—it was an all guys’ sleepover, nobody gave a damn about someone changing—and fished a pair of pyjama pants out of his bag, which he stepped into. “Come on, clothes off, you want to fit in.”

“I don’t…you know I don’t wear underwear, you asshole.”

Cal grinned. He did know that. So he slid his own briefs off, Wes’s shirt big enough to fall to his knees, and he tossed them at Sully. “Got you covered.”

“Ew, no. Gross.”

“They’re clean, I only put them on after I showered,” Cal said, affronted. “This morning.”

“You have to stop hazing me at some point.”

Cal shrugged, patted Sully on the shoulder and headed into the room proper, leaving him there holding Cal’s briefs. “Maybe.”

“Do you plan to stop hazing him ever?” Mick asked as they headed for the snack table.

“Who knows?” Cal asked. “I was thinking I could go easier on him after this. Is he changing?”

“Yep,” Wes confirmed, chuckling. “Swearing all the way.”

“Good. One of us has to make sure to get a picture of him before he takes them off.” Cal was a little relieved. Those things had been too tight for him, and wearing them all day would have been a waste if Sully had decided to buck expectations. But Sully was eminently predictable, fortunately.

“I think we can manage. Hey, board games.”

“Ooh,” Cal said, distracted. “I see Arkham Horror. I wonder if we could convince a few people to play.”

“Probably,” Mick said, laughing. “Not like anyone was planning to sleep.”

“Exactly. Fan out and do some recruiting,” Cal ordered, making an imperious gesture.

They did just that, preparing for a good evening.

—

“Pretty sure those are mine.”

Isaac didn’t even look up from the table as he got chips for himself and Peter. “Funny, because I’m the one wearing them.”

“Yeah, but see, I was wearing them when I came in,” the angular guy said, arms crossed.

Isaac looked down at his boxers, which he’d found on the ground a few minutes ago. He was switching pairs every time he found one abandoned, which was happening surprisingly often considering there was minimal touching of anything at this sleepover. “Found them on the floor,” he said, shrugging. “I left you a pair. Which you’re wearing.”

In the red and black boxer briefs Isaac had left him, the guy nodded. “But I don’t want your underwear, I want mine.”

“Ah, but those aren’t mine either,” Isaac said, smiling at the guy. He was pretty cute. “You know in video games when you find new equipment and you’ve just got to put it on, but you don’t have enough room in your inventory so you ditch the old stuff? Hi, I’m Isaac.”

“Jay.” And Jay laughed. “Fine. Losing battle.”

“I won’t ask why you left them lying around,” Isaac promised, holding up two plates of food. Peter was perfectly capable of getting his own food, but Isaac was perfectly capable of spoiling people too. “If you want them back, play me in Mario Kart over there? If you win we can make an arrangement.”

“And if I lose?”

Isaac grinned, got in Jay’s space a little, their chests touching. “We’ll make a different arrangement. I have to take this to my friend over there.”

“I’ll meet you at the game soon, then.”

“See you there, Jay,” Isaac said, sauntering off to feed Peter. He was having a good time.

—

“Are you winning?”

Pax frowned, taking the bowl of pretzels Nate offered him and turning back to frown at the game board. “I…don’t think this is a game you can be ‘winning,’ per se.”

“Is that a roundabout way of saying you’re losing?”

“No, he’s right,” Wes said, rolling the dice back and forth in his hand. “Stuff just kind of happens until the game ends and we all get devoured by some horrific creature from beyond.”

“Oh,” Nate said, resting his hand on Pax’s back. “Well, that sounds fun.”

“It is?” Pax confirmed, though he wasn’t super sure it was yet. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense. I was lured in with the promise of there being lots of rules and a convoluted gameplay structure, but I’m not sure that there actually are rules or a gameplay structure, I think Cal is just making it all up as he goes along.”

“He probably is,” Wes confirmed, stealing one of Pax’s pretzels even though Pax didn’t think that they were ‘stealing other’s food’ friends yet.

“It seems like the kind of game where that would happen,” Peter agreed, looking at the board. “I think it’s part of the appeal.”

“Well, Pax makes it up as he goes along most of the time,” Nate told Wes. Nate and Wes played football together, so they were friends. “It’s part of his appeal. So they’re a good fit.”

“Hey,” Pax looked over his shoulder, glaring at Nate. “I never make anything up.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Pax admitted, deterred a little because it was hard to glare at Nate for long when he was dressed in the funny novelty boxers Pax had gotten him for his birthday and nothing else.

Pax, for himself, was wearing perfectly sensible pyjamas, and screw whatever social convention secretly existed here that had led almost nobody else to wear proper sleepwear.

“Yeah. Alright, Cal’s on his way back from the bathroom, so I’ll leave you to it,” Nate said, standing up. “Let me know how it goes.”

“There were fire vampires for a while,” Pax said, frowning at the board. “But then something happened and now they’ve gone in a cup.”

“That happens sometimes in Arkham,” Mick told him. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“At least you didn’t try to read the Necronomicon and get trapped in…somewhere?” Leo asked, tilting his head and squinting at the somewhere where he was trapped.

Pax shrugged. “It’s okay. Weird shit and eldritch abominations don’t bother me much. The main thing that I’m pleased about is that there haven’t been any birds yet. As long as there continue not to be birds, then we’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think there are birds,” Mick said with a frown, seeming to think. “Could be wrong. We can ask Cal.”

“Let’s not,” Pax suggested, as Cal returned. “I don’t want the answer to be yes, then I’d be sitting here worrying about them. Let’s just go back to doing…whatever the fuck.”

“Ah, now you’re getting into the spirit,” Cal said, nodding at Wes. “Let’s go.”

—

“Come on, you should do it.”

“I’m not going to do it,” Edwin grumbled. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s fun. Have fun, Ed. Stop being boring.”

Edwin sighed, about half a second away from elbowing Ty in the gut. “Okay, God.”

“That’s the spirit—Hey James, do Ty next!”

“Sure,” James said, shuffling his Tarot cards. He beckoned for Edwin to come closer, which Edwin did, reluctantly.

“To be clear, I don’t believe in this stuff. I’m doing it so my friend will be quiet,” Edwin explained.

James just nodded, smiling kind of mysteriously. How anyone could be mysterious in a baggy t-shirt for a Norwegian metal band, Edwin didn’t know, but James pulled it off. “That’s okay. You don’t have to believe in it. It’s just fun, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Edwin muttered, looking at the cards when James held them out to him.

“Shuffle them for a minute,” James told him, still smiling. “And while you’re doing that, I want you to think about a question.”

“What kind of question?” Edwin asked, taking the cards warily.

“Whatever kind you like. The cards can’t help you answer a question you don’t have, so think of something that’s going on in your life that you want an answer to. Even if it’s something simple like how you’re going to do on a test, or something big like whether you’ll find true love. You don’t have to tell me your question, just keep it in your mind.”

Edwin snorted, but he looked away, shuffling the cards. “Whatever question I want?”

“Yes.”

Edwin shuffled for a minute, thinking. The only question he really had that he could think of was whether he’d ever live up to the standard Erik was always setting for him. “Okay,” he said.

“Now take three cards and put them on the table,” James said, waving at the small coffee table. It wasn’t the most occult thing Edwin had ever seen.

“Alright,” Edwin said. He laid the top three cards on the table, facedown in a row.

James smiled again, and took the deck back, turning it around in his hands. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“That you laid them facedown.”

Edwin frowned. “Was I not supposed to?” James hadn’t told him that.

“There is no supposed to,” James told him, patting Edwin’s arm. “But it tells me that you don’t like the idea of your destiny being in your own hands, that you want intervention from someone else.”

“Well, that’s crap,” Edwin said, clearing his throat. Ty was snickering beside him.

“Probably, most fortune telling is. Do you want me to turn them over for you?”

“And have you tell me I’m afraid of the future? No.” Edwin looked down at the cards.

“You could ask Tyler to do it if you don’t want to,” James offered.

“I could…how did you know his name?”

James smiled again. “Magic.”

“Magic isn’t real,” Edwin said.

“Okay.”

Edwin would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little wigged out. He looked at Ty, nodded at the table.

Ty laughed. “Probably just heard you say my name before,” he said, reaching down to turn over the first card.

“Yeah,” Edwin agreed, though he was kind of unsure suddenly.

“The Sword,” James said, looking down at the hand-painted card, which was pointing right at Edwin. “Usually represents conflict, but it can also point to justice, which is usually a related idea. Of course, it could just be a phallic metaphor, especially with where it’s pointed right now. I wouldn’t put it past my cousin.”

Edwin coloured a little, drew a pillow into his lap. “So what, my future’s going to be full of dick?”

“There are quite a lot of them here,” James said, looking around. “Maybe it’s a message about your present.”

Edwin snorted. “Take off my shorts and everything’ll be fine?” He didn’t like the idea of conflict in his future.

“Maybe.” James smiled again. “Your destiny is yours to make, Edwin. Flip over the next card?”

—

“And it’s not that I expect him to drop his boyfriend and get with me or anything, it’s just why does every boy I like have to get with someone else?”

Sam was at a loss. He didn’t know who Hector was or why he was venting all his romantic problems to Sam. “It’s because you’d rather sit and whinge about it to me than do something about it,” Sam told him, making a face. “If you want him to like you, fucking tell him and don’t let him date someone else.”

“Well…yeah.” Hector said, sighing, shifting and making the air mattress they were sitting on move. “I guess that’s, you know. Smart.”

“It’s common sense,” Sam told him. “Why are you even telling me this anyway? You don’t know me.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to vent to a stranger than a friend, you know?” Hector asked. “And you seem cool. Like you’ve got your shit together and stuff.”

“I don’t have a choice but to have my shit together,” Sam told him, wishing Henry hadn’t made him come to this stupid thing. Why it was fun to sit in his underwear and listen to some stranger complain he didn’t know? He also didn’t know why it was taking Henry so long to come back with his food. “I’d get eaten alive if I didn’t.”

“That’s rough,” Hector said, moving again. “You want to talk about it? Only fair after I complained to you above Gavin for ages.”

Sam didn’t want to tell Hector about the board of directors and his father’s friends and Henry or anything else. He didn’t need to talk to someone, that was stupid. “I’m fine. I don’t have friends who I…vent to. I just figure my own problems out.”

“Hey,” Hector said, hand brushing Sam’s hand briefly. “You must have friends. What about that guy you came here with?”

Sam snorted. “That’s just Henry.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“But you wish he was?” Hector asked, voice a little sing-song. It was very annoying.

“No,” Sam repeated, making a face. He moved his hand away from Hector.

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t lie.”

“That’s what liars always say, trust me, my mom’s a politician.” Hector took Sam’s hand, gave him a tug. “Come on, come over here.”

“No, what are you doing?” Sam asked, resisting as Hector tried to get him to stand up.

“I’m going to introduce you to all my friends.”

“I don’t need…”

“We can sit and complain about boys together, come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I…” Hector had said his mother was part of the government, Sam realized. He sighed, stood up. Maybe this could be useful. “Fine. I’ll meet your friends. But we’re not talking about boys.”

“We’re talking about boys,” Hector said, slowly pulling Sam somewhere. He must have been kicking things away, because Sam’s walking path was clear.

“If you bring up Henry to them I’m telling them all about your problems with Gavin.”

“Oh, that’s…cold. You’re mean.”

Sam smirked, letting Hector lead him. “You have no idea.”

—

“Did we lose Simon?” Daniel asked, looking around.

“He’s over there with his new friends,” Hugh said, nodding to where Simon was sitting on an air mattress, giggling and playing cards with three other boys close to his age.

“Aw, he found people he likes better than us.”

“Whatever,” Marcus said, grinning. “Now that he’s not here we can swear and talk about sex.”

“Okay, but…” Daniel looked at Hugh, who shrugged. “We’re not actually going to do that, right? Cause the punch is good but if you expect me to talk about sex with you it’s going to need to be a lot better than this.”

“Also, we swear when Simon is with us,” Hugh reminded Marcus.

“Whatever,” Marcus muttered, leaning back. “The point is Simon’s fine. You guys think we can stay up all night, or will someone pass out before then?”

“You’re likely to pass out before them,” Daniel told him.

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Just for that I’m sleeping on top of you.”

“You drool in your sleep.”

A grin. “I know.”

“You’re gross,” Daniel told him, reaching out for the chips and finding their bag empty. Hugh had eaten them all again.

“Can confirm,” Hugh said, nodding. “Speaking of which, can you move your leg or fix your shorts? You’re falling out of them.”

Marcus was in fact falling out of the left side of his shorts, and he shifted in a way that made it worse. “You could just stop looking,” he said with a grin.

“Or you could stop flashing us,” Hugh shot back.

“You’re just jealous.” Marcus smirked.

“You…”

“He’s a coward,” Daniel said, watching Marcus carefully.

“Excuse me?”

“Wants us to see him but he’s too nervous to just take his shorts off,” Daniel continued, not breaking eye contact. “Come on, Marcus. Don’t half-ass it. Be a man and just take it off.”

Marcus held eye contact with Daniel for a full two seconds before he looked away, face red as he adjusted his shorts and covered himself properly. “Pervert.”

“Never lost a game of chicken in my life and I’m not going to start,” Daniel bragged. “I want more chips.”

“Then go get some, perv,” Marcus said, tossing a pillow at him.

“Lazy.”

“You’re the one who wants them,” Hugh said, smirking.

“You’re the one who ate them!”

Hugh shrugged, tossing another pillow at Daniel.

Daniel narrowed his eyes. “You guys suck,” He muttered, getting up and dusting himself off.

“Get us some punch while you’re up!”

“Fuck off,” Daniel said, since Simon wasn’t here.

He got them punch anyway.

—

“I’m tired,” Franz complained, resting his head on Boey’s shoulder.

“If you fall asleep,” Boey warned, “someone is going to draw on you and post embarrassing pictures on Facebook.”

“I know,” Franz whinged. “But you’d protect me, right?”

Boey laughed. “Who do you think is going to take the pictures?”

Franz huffed, which turned into a yawn. “Traitor.”

“Stop expecting me to be on your side all the time and you’ll be a lot happier.”

“Probably,” Franz grumbled, stretching a little. “I should go for a walk to wake up.”

“How do you fall asleep in a brightly-lit room with like forty guys making noise everywhere?”

Franz shrugged. “Old before my time, I guess.” He got up, stretched again, and started to wander.

He only wandered about a third of the way across the room when Gavin grabbed him. “How are you doing, brother mine?”

“Trying to stay awake,” Franz told him. “Where’s your knight?”

“Who knows,” Gavin said, waving a hand.

Franz smirked, sat down beside him. “With all these guys around in states of undress, I’d think you’d be more worried.”

Gavin shrugged, looking over at the food tables. Franz had watched him running up and down the stairs all night, making sure that nothing was empty. It seemed tiring. “I’ve trained him pretty well. Besides, as long as he comes back at the end of the night I don’t mind.”

“An awfully enlightened position for you to take,” Franz commented, neutral.

“An awfully generous one for a spoiled brat like me, you mean?” Gavin asked, poking Franz’s leg. “It’s secretly selfish.”

Franz looked at Gavin. “Because you’re hoping he’ll bring someone back for you?”

“See, I knew Gabrielle kept you around for a reason.” Gavin flashed a grin. “He’s never taken me up on it.”

“Tragic.”

“Someday. Are you having a good time?”

Franz smiled at him. “Yes. And you should stop worrying about whether people are having a good time.”

“I can’t.”

“Look around,” Franz said, waving at the crowd of guys, laughing and hanging out and eating and very much not sleeping. “Everyone’s having a good time. You should have a good time too.”

Gavin sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

Franz stood, nodding. “Come on, they’re going to have an arm wrestling tournament over there. Let’s go compete.”

“You think I can win an arm wrestling competition?”

“No, but I have every confidence in your ability to cheat and call in Owen as illegal backup,” Franz laughed. “And I know how you like winning.”

“I do like winning,” Gavin admitted, getting up with a grin. “Alright, let’s go.”

Franz didn’t feel as tired all of the sudden.

—

The problem with all of this was that there really needed to be a room they could go in for some privacy, Travis thought. It was hard to look at Joey, wearing a pair of Travis’s boxers that were hanging loose on him, and not want to just…go somewhere private for a bit.

But there wasn’t, or at least Travis wasn’t going to go hunting through someone else’s house to look for one, so he had to make do with trying to win at Smash Bros instead.

The problem was that Joey knew full well what was happening, and was not above taking advantage of it.

Which was why Travis was currently losing very badly to Joey, who was sitting in his lap, sticking his tongue out as he mashed buttons in a game he wasn’t even good at.

“Boom,” Joey said, as Travis’s last life exploded. “You suck.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Travis sighed, setting the controller down and putting his head on Joey’s shoulder to watch him lose miserably to the other two guys they were playing with.

“You both kind of suck,” one of those guys said. His name was Nicholas.

“I’m usually better than this,” Travis promised. “I don’t usually have a dead weight sitting on me.”

“Hey!”

Travis grinned, wrapping his arms around Joey’s middle. “If you expect to win this battle, you might want to go sit on someone else now.”

“I’m good enough to win without cheating.”

“Sitting on me isn’t cheating?”

“Sitting on you is affection,” Joey said, wiggling a little. “And doing you a favour.”

“A favour?”

“You’d be awfully embarrassed if everyone could see your lap right now,” Joey teased. And he wasn’t wrong. “I’m helping you out by hiding it.”

“This problem only exists because you’re sitting on me,” Travis hissed.

“Guys, keep it in your pants,” Warren, their other player, said.

“We’ll see,” Joey said, giggling. “Oh, fuck,” he said, tensing as he lost a life. “Jerk.”

“Not my fault you don’t know where the block button is,” Nicholas muttered, the set of his shoulders indicating he was taking this seriously.

“Maybe I should sit on someone else,” Joey muttered, giving him the evil eye as he respawned.

“Nope,” Travis said, keeping his arms wrapped tightly. “You picked your seat, you’re stuck here now.”

Not even for the embarrassment factor. If Joey was going to make Travis lose, Travis fully intended to return the favour.

—

“Do we even know anyone here?”

Aaron shrugged, biting into a carrot. “Probably, or else how did we get invited?”

“I don’t see anyone we know,” Seth said.

“You’re used to seeing the people we know in clothes, that’s all,” Aaron assured him. “Have some food.”

“I do like food,” Seth muttered, looking at the table instead. “I mean, it’s fun and all. Just weird.”

“We’ll find someone we know,” Aaron assured him, looking around, partially to find someone they knew and partially to stop looking at Seth for a bit. Those bikini briefs suited him too well.

“Looking for friends?” Someone asked, coming up to them with a plate of food. A tallish, muscular guy in boxer briefs, he smiled at them.

“We’ll find them eventually,” Aaron said, smiling at him. “Or make new ones, I guess.”

“That’s a plan. Henry.”

“Aaron, and my friend, Seth.”

“Hi,” Seth told Henry, always eloquent.

“I don’t know many people either,” Henry said. “You want to admire the food together?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Aaron laughed. “It’s nice looking food.”

“Tell me about it.”

There, Aaron thought. Now they knew someone here.

—

Jesse was a little surprised. TV had always made it seem like all-boys sleepovers would inevitably end up with touching and squishing and size comparisons and sexy pillow fights and gay chicken, and possibly an orgy or something after the lights finally went out, and well…

Not all of that was happening, but the vibe was there and he wasn’t disappointed in what he’d seen so far. Apparently, for once, TV had been right about something, and that was kind of awesome.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

Jesse looked up, smiling at the guy standing there in front of him. His name was Jacob, Jesse had heard someone say it before. “Yeah. I am.”

“I know, I meant that seriously, not as sarcasm. You were smiling and looking around and stuff like you were having some sort of inner monologue about the sleepover and how fun it was.” Jacob sat down beside him.

“I was doing exactly that,” Jesse admitted, laughing. “People watching. My creepy hobby.”

“Well, there’s a lot of people to watch here,” Jacob grinned, looking around the room. “Want to make bets on who’s going to sneak away for some hormone time first?”

Jesse tittered. “Well, those two already have,” he said, pointing to the host and his redheaded friend. “As for who goes next…”

“My money’s on Isaac and someone,” Jacob said, pointing out a slender guy with dark hair. Cute. “Don’t know who yet. It’s always a bit of a toss-up.”

“The little guy with the grey hair over there is getting impatient too,” Jesse said, pointing him out as he hung on his partner.

“Alright, it’s on. Let’s get a drink and see who’s right. Loser has to admit the winner’s creep supremacy.”

Jesse couldn’t help but laugh again. “Deal.”

—

“The thing is,” Edwin explained to Leo, talking slowly so Leo wouldn’t think he was crazy. “Fortune telling isn’t totally bunk. I mean, people can’t see the future, obviously, but the world works in patterns, right? So all you need to do is…”

Edwin was interrupted by a tap on the back of his head. “The hell?”

Owen was up there grinning at him like an idiot. It was his ordinary grin. Edwin’s stomach sank a little, because it never presaged anything good. “What do you want?”

“I need your guys’s help,” Owen said. “Get pillows, we’re having a pillow fight. I want you guys on my team.”

“Pillow fights don’t have teams, dumbass,” Edwin told him, narrowing his eyes. As if he’d be on Owen’s team even if they did.

“This one does. Don’t you want to beat Gavin?”

Edwin perked up. “Yes. Let’s go. Ty, hand me that pillow.”

Owen grinned again. “Good. Have to go get Nicholas. It’s going to be fun, plus we won’t lose the bet, so there’s that.”

And there was the other shoe. Edwin glared. “What bet?” He knew Gavin well enough to have an idea. “I’m not being his servant boy all night.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Owen assured him, turning to go find Nicholas. “I bet him your boxer shorts, that’s all.”

“What, mine? Owen!”

It was too late, though, Owen was already off, laughing.

Growling, Edwin grabbed a pillow and prepared to fight.

—

The pillow fight was a sight to see. It started out between two organized groups of a few guys each, but rapidly grew to encompass others, until everyone at the sleepover was involved, pillows flying, hitting sweaty bodies, guys laughing and shouting and falling over as they pummelled and were pummelled in return.

Whatever sides or teams there had been had dissolved after the first fifteen minutes, and now Isaac was just fighting for his life, rarely attacking except when he was attacked first, though he had gotten in a good hit on Nicholas’s backside earlier.

Blood was pumping in his ears, his chest and elsewhere, and Isaac wasn’t the only one as the war waged on, nobody safe from being pounded, though Peter had bowed out a while ago to go sit with Sam.

A pillow to his back had Isaac turning to face a guy named Marcus, who immediately went for his belly. Isaac dodged to one side and hit him upside the head, then followed up with a shot that accidentally took him between the legs. “Sorry!” Hitting below the belt was a bad move, everyone knew that.

It was an unwritten rule, and the unwritten consequence was that you stood there and let the other guy hit you back, so Isaac held out his arms and waited while Marcus straightened. “It’s okay,” he breathed, recovering. Then he grinned, and took his revenge.

It wasn’t the worst ever, but Isaac doubled over, noting that Marcus didn’t wait before hitting him on the back and putting him on the floor, standing over him with pillow raised.

Isaac smiled weakly. “Mercy?”

Marcus looked Isaac over, grinning. “Maybe we can work out terms of surrender.”

The fight raged on a while longer, until they were all exhausted, sweaty and out of breath, laying on the floor in piles, fully satisfied and urges quelled for the time being.

—

“I would just like to say that I was the clear winner of that pillow fight by any reasonable metric,” Pax grumbled, while Nate played with his hair.

“I don’t think pillow fights have winners. The whole point is to get hit with pillows. Also it was a team sport.”

“This one had a winner,” Pax insisted. “And it was me. And everyone else is just a sore loser.”

“Okay.”

“That’s better, I like it when you agree with me.”

“I always agree with you, Pax,” Nate said, smiling. Pax couldn’t see him smiling, but he was. And that made Pax smile too.

“Good.” Pax nodded. “And while I understand that losing is frustrating, I just don’t feel it was necessary to take out that frustration on me.”

“It was harmless, and you had it coming.”

“Pantsing someone is never the appropriate response.”

Nate laughed.

“I’m serious! There are no problems in the world that are solved by yanking someone’s pants down. Also, I want my pants back. Why won’t you tell me who has them?”

“You’ve got underwear on.”

“That’s hardly the point. Now my clothes don’t match.”

“You could take your shirt off,” Nate suggested.

That was, Pax thought, a perfectly logical response to what he’d just said. He sighed. “I’m just saying, I shouldn’t be punished for winning.”

“I think the pantsing was meant to be a reward.”

Pax started to form a rebuttal, but then he thought about it, scowling a little. In this crowd, that was probably true.

“I still want my pants back.”

—

Sam had completely lost control of his life, and he wasn’t sure who to kill to fix that.

Sitting out the stupid pillow fight—which would have gone super well for him, obviously—apparently meant in someone’s mind that sitting out the next activity was forbidden, so here he was, sitting in a circle with some others.

Playing spin the bottle.

Sam listened to the other boys cheer as Aaron and Peter finished their obligatory kiss. “You’re awfully good at that,” Peter said.

“Natural talent, I guess,” Aaron said, laughing. “So are you.”

“Well, I had to get through practice. If you ever want to polish that talent, hit me up.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

Sam wondered why the hell it was fun to make people kiss and nothing else. Now a more extreme version of spin the bottle he could get behind. Something worth considering.

“Sam?”

Shaken out of his thoughts by Sully’s hand on his shoulder. “What?” he asked, shaking it off.

“Your go.”

Sam sighed, reached out, groped a bit until he found the bottle, gave it a spin. He prepared himself for the stupidity that was to come, since there was no point in resisting whatever power was making him do all this.

The group tittered collectively, and Sam sighed. “Well?”

“Me,” Daniel said, and Sam heard him get up, felt his breath as he crouched down. “Ready?”

Sam made a noise, moved forward and just put his lips on where he assumed Daniel’s were, pleased to find out he’d at least mostly hit the mark. He kissed, and Daniel kissed back, and he wasn’t sure which of them opened their mouths first, but there it was. They had to kiss for a full minute, that was the game, and Sam lost track of time as he struggled against Daniel’s tongue for dominance and Daniel’s hands were around his neck and Sam’s hands ran down Daniel’s bare chest, stopping at his waistband. Daniel leaned forward as if to push Sam back, but Sam wasn’t about to be on bottom and he pushed back so he fell on top of Daniel, kissing fiercely, sensing the competition Daniel was offering and refusing to lose.

Their minute passed. The other heckled them and tried to make them stop. When they had to break for air, Daniel said. “I don’t lose this game.”

“I don’t lose anything,” Sam countered, and then they were kissing again.

Later, they called it a draw. Sam wasn’t happy with that. He’d win next time.

—

Of course, it was Owen who started the measuring.

Ron had been perfectly happy laying there, looking up at the ceiling and resting just a bit, when suddenly there was Owen, hand between his legs, grabbing Ron through his boxers. “Hey!”

Owen grinned. “Just checking to see if you’d gotten any bigger. I did.” He gave Ron a squeeze, then took back his hand and grabbed himself to demonstrate. “Do you think I’m still bigger than you?”

“Probably?” Ron asked, blushing. “Who cares? Size doesn’t matter.”

“The only people who say that are people who are small,” Owen teased, straddling Ron and pressing them together, squishing both of them. “Hm…”

“Get off!”

Owen laughed and withdrew. “Fine, but then I’m going to assume you’re smaller.”

Blushing furiously, Ron looked away as he sat up. “Do what you want.”

“This is important!” Owen said, nodding. “I mean, with some people you can just tell,” he said, pointing openly towards Cal, who was sitting nearby.

“Hey!” But even as he said that, all three of his buddies snickered, Sully reaching out and grabbing him through his shirt to confirm.

“But the rest of us need some way to measure.”

“For what reason?” Ron asked, covering himself with his hands just in case.

“Dominance,” Edwin said from nearby.

“See, Edwin knows.”

“I’m dominant!” That was Joey, jumping to his feet and joining them, standing proudly with his hands on his hips. “I’m the biggest, too!”

There was silence. Ron just looked at Joey like the rest of them. Joey was…very short. “Okay, Joey.”

“I am!”

Edwin came up behind him, grabbing Joey from behind. “He’s no slouch,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Told you.” Joey squirmed, and grabbed back, squeezing. “I’m bigger.”

“Are not.”

“Only one way to find out,” Owen said, and Ron saw it coming but he couldn’t stop it. Owen reached out and grabbed two waistbands, and he hauled shorts down and that was the end of the dress code.

—

It was a long, fun night of games, food and friends, whittling the hours away one at a time in each other’s company, growing closer throughout the night. Nobody who came to that sleepover left without at least one new friend, though a good number of them managed to leave without all of what they’d been wearing on arrival.

They ate all the food, played every game they could, had contest and games and tournaments, talked about everything, swapped stories and other things, asserted dominance and created hierarchies that were only for fun because they were friends in the end.

And in the end, after they’d outlasted the dark and the sun had come up, after they’d exhausted everything and themselves and each other, they collapsed into blankets and beds and pillows and each other, in pairs and groups and piles and alone but never far.

And, as was the fate of everyone at sleepovers, no matter how fun, no matter how full, they slept.


	104. Isaac, Boss Battle Prep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit too inspired by a [post](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/172737449968/iwannabeyourgentleman-ask-cloud-skipper) I saw on Tumblr, and this is my expansion on it. In which Isaac stars in a video game that I'm sure we'd all like to play.

The little rest stop that was a on a boat just near the Sea King’s palace was a godsend.

It had a shop, a restaurant, a bath, and most importantly, a little bedroom with a bed and a summoning circle in it.

Isaac had stayed the night, stocked up on supplies, let his allies rest and talked to everyone in the rest stop to get information about the Sea King (plus two requests from people at the rest stop, one whose son was trapped in the Sea King’s dungeon and one who needed five lots of seaweed that could only be found in the palace and was willing to trade a fancy vibrator for it). Now he was fully prepared except for one thing.

“Okay,” Isaac said, standing naked in front of the summoning circle and looking through his log book. “Who do I need to fight a Sea King?”

Probably nobody with fire-type bonuses, Isaac figured, regretfully flipping past his entry on Owen. Pax was useful in water-based battles, so he was a definite yes. Since he didn’t really know much about what he was getting into even after talking to the people here in the rest stop, Isaac picked Jacob to go with him. Normally he liked Boey for that, but Jacob was good at gathering information too and Isaac got a combination bonus from having both him and Pax in him at the same time.

It seemed like he was going to need a lot of magic defence and attack, both good skills for him anyway, but he went with both Nicholas and Peter to help him buff both as much as possible, since the fight with the Sea King was probably going to be mostly magic-based. Plus the three of them had figured out how to trigger an awesome special attack a while back that he wanted to try out.

That left two spots on the team, and Isaac flipped through his physical fighters, trying to settle on one. He liked Edwin, but he wanted to level up a few of the others. Maybe Wes, he decided after looking at their pages in his book for a bit. He’d take the heightened physical attack and defence in exchange for the slower speed. Not usually his choice, but Pax and Jacob gave him a huge speed bonus together to cancel it out.

That just left a healer, which Isaac really wished he could level Nicholas up in. Mick was the obvious choice there since he had combos with Wes, but… “Probably going to get poisoned a lot in there,” Isaac muttered, looking through his options. Mick could do an antitoxin spell, but it was one of James’s passive abilities; all he had to do was swallow a load from James and Isaac would be protected from poison for an hour. His attack magic wasn’t the most useful out at sea, but Isaac wasn’t too worried about that. They had more than enough firepower on the team.

Hopefully when he beat the Sea King Isaac would level up enough that he could have more than six of his allies with him at once. That would make his life easier.

With his team figured out, Isaac pre-emptively dug through his bag for accessories, setting out the new butt plug he’d bought for himself, the one that added a passive water resistance when he had it in, and then six vibrators, one for each guy, to keep them in top shape while they were exploring and battling. Mostly he picked ones that buffed their stamina and defence, he found that was usually the best bet. He did give Wes one that added an electric aura to his weapon, just for bonus damage.

With equipment all sorted out, Isaac turned back to the summoning circle, performing the spell to invoke his allies from their headquarters in the Commune.

One at a time, six naked and almost battle-ready guys appeared in the room. Isaac handed each of them their lubed-up vibrator as they appeared, and once all six of them were there, he smiled. “Alright,” he said, heading over to the bed and laying down, spreading his legs apart. “We’ve got a Sea King to take out, so let’s get powered up.”


	105. James/Ron, First Time (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which modern James and Ron do BDSM. The prompt here was 'first time' and I couldn't think of a first time that we haven't seen in the main story, so I went to the Modern AU.

[Prompt](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/04/16/hi-for-the-101-kinks-drabble-list-could-i-get-29/): "Hi for the 101 kinks drabble list could i get 29 [First Time] with ron/james pls" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2018/01/25/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill/).

\---

“Can you move?”

“No.”

“Is it tight enough?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“What about the blindfold?”

“Can’t see a thing.”

“Good. Here’s the buzzer. Use if it you need it.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know, James.”

James sighed behind Ron, running a hand down the back of his neck. “Okay. I’m gagging you now.”

“Go ahead.”

James did, fitting the ball gag into Ron’s mouth and fastening it behind his head. “I want you to test the buzzer one more time.”

Ron rolled his eyes a little behind the blindfold, pressed the button in his right hand. A loud buzz sounded, which stopped when he let go of the button. Taking the place of his safeword since he was gagged.

“Okay.” James patted Ron’s head. “I know you rolled your eyes.”

Ron shook his head.

“Liar.”

It wasn’t like Ron could say anything to refute him. James patted him again. “Okay. I’m starting now.”

Ron nodded, and he felt James stand up behind him.

This was a first for them, their first attempt at serious bondage stuff. They’d talked about it for like a week before they’d managed to actually get here, and though both of them pretty much knew everything that was going to happen for the next little while, Ron was still excited, kneeling there on James’s bedroom floor, blindfolded, gagged and with his arms bound up to his elbows in front of him. Ron had wanted to be tied up with his arms behind him, but James had decided to go a little easier on him for the first attempt.

Ron also had a butt plug in, just because James wanted to keep his options open.

Ron knelt there for a minute, waiting, trying not to quiver, while he felt James move around behind him. What was he doing? Ron wasn’t entirely sure. They’d talked about what they were going to do, but they’d agreed to a lot of different things and then Ron had let James pick which ones he was going to actually do.

Just as he was starting to wonder what was taking so long, a piece of cool leather came to rest on his shoulder. “You’ve been a bad boy,” James said quietly, tapping his shoulder with the riding crop.

Ron nodded, making a little noise behind the gag.

James hit Ron’s shoulder with the riding crop. “Quiet, runt, I’m talking.”

Ron shivered, but he nodded again, contrite.

“You need to be punished for your bad behaviour,” James said, drawing the crop along Ron’s back, then around his side as he walked around Ron. “You need to be reminded of your place.” Another light hit from the crop on Ron’s left nipple, and Ron tried not to flinch. “Are you going to fight me, or are you going to take your punishment like a good boy?”

Ron nodded. He was a good boy. He was going to be good.

“Good.” James swatted Ron again, coming around behind him. “Stand up.”

Ron did, finding it harder than he expected with his arms tied, with the plug in. James followed him with the crop, drawing it down to the back of Ron’s thigh as he stood, moving it around to tap his erection. “I didn’t put a ring on you,” he said, voice soft. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Ron nodded, a promise.

Breath on the back of Ron’s neck, James removed the crop, ran a hand down his spine. “You’re so pretty. Your skin is so nice. I want to make it all red and marked up.”

Ron nodded again. “Giving me permission, runt?” James’s voice was dangerous. “You think I need that? Did you forget? I can do whatever I want.” He gave Ron a hard swat on the ass now. “That’s how this works. I don’t need your permission to hit you.” He hit Ron again, the sting staying this time. “I don’t need your permission to punish you.” Another hit.

James did have Ron’s absolute permission to do all of those things, and that was the only reason they both felt safe pretending he didn’t. And because Ron knew that. He just nodded, trying not to make any noise as the strikes came faster and faster on his backside.

The crop withdrew after a few more hits, and James put his hand on Ron’s shoulder, rubbing it. “Bend over.”

Ron did as he was told, having to work a bit to maintain his balance with his arms tied together. But he managed it, bending almost all the way forward, dick rubbing against his belly.

James was standing beside him now, hand on Ron’s lower back. “Yes, like that,” he said. And he spanked Ron with his open hand, riding crop gone now. Ron rocked forward in surprise, but maintained his balance. “Don’t fall or I’ll start over.”

Ron swallowed around the gag, hand on the buzzer, and he nodded. James spanked him again, twice, three times, picking up a rhythm. His free hand stayed on Ron’s back, reassuring him and keeping him steady. Ron liked spankings, and this felt less like a punishment and more like comfort, like James was reminding him that he cared.

James hadn’t told Ron to count, but he did, mentally keeping track of the blows. Ten, fifteen. Twenty. James didn’t stop at twenty like he usually did, though. Twenty-one, and Ron couldn’t help but make a noise. He was struggling—not with the spanking, but with the fact that he wanted to cum.

Twenty-two, twenty-three. Ron was getting close. He clenched, trying to hold it in, trying not to break the one rule James had given him today, trying. Twenty-four. Twenty-five.

James’s hand stayed there after the twenty-fifth, resting on Ron’s tender backside. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you?”

Ron nodded, eyes squeezed shut behind the blindfold, holding in tears. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to break the rules.

“I’ll stop,” James told him, rubbing Ron’s back and taking his hand away. “For now. Do you need the cock ring?”

Ron thought about it. He wanted to say no, he wanted to believe he could control himself without it. But he just didn’t think he could, not if James was planning anything else. And if he was asking, it was because he was planning something else.

So, face burning a little, Ron nodded.

“Okay.” James left, and Ron heard him rummaging around. He came back a moment later, hand coming gently to Ron’s dick. “If I put it on, I get to decide when it comes off, got it?”

Ron nodded. He knew what he was getting himself into. But he also knew that he didn’t want to disappoint James by cumming early. So he nodded, and James patted his arm and carefully put the cock ring on, squeezing Ron’s dick tight so he couldn’t break the rules. “Good boy,” James muttered as he put it on. “It must have been hard to ask for that. To admit you needed help. I’m proud of you.”

Ron would be beaming if he could around the gag, feeling all warm and weightless at the praise. He couldn’t help the happy noise that slipped out.

James laughed a little, and moved behind Ron again. He pulled the butt plug out all in one go, teasing Ron’s hole with his finger. And then, all in one go, he slid his dick in. Ron hadn’t realized he’d undressed. “Now that I don’t have to worry about you making a mess, I can let off some of my own stress,” James said, as Ron whimpered at the sudden intrusion. It didn’t hurt; he was stretched and James had put lube on at some point. It was just unexpected.

James started sliding in and out of Ron, hands on his sore backside as he went at a good speed. He wasn’t planning on taking a long time, Ron realized. He was just going to cum and then get back to playing with Ron.

That didn’t stop him from hitting Ron’s prostate a good number of times, probably on purpose. Ron moaned and whinged around the gag, some drool running down his chin as he ached to cum, grateful he didn’t have to hold it in anymore even as he wished the ring was gone. He’d asked for this, he would do it.

With a hard thrust that slammed his hips against Ron’s sore backside, James came inside him, a soft grunt escaping his mouth as he did. Ron made a sustained noise as he was filled up, enjoying the sensation. They’d agreed mutually not to use a condom today. Another first.

James sighed, staying there for a second, massaging Ron’s butt cheeks with his hand. “That was good,” he whispered, pulling out, leaving Ron empty.

But not for long. James’s dick was replaced not a few seconds later by plastic as he re-inserted…not the plug, Ron realized. Something longer. It slid into him, filling the space James had vacated, and then James patted Ron’s leg. “You can stand up straight now.”

Ron did, grateful to give his aching back a rest. But before he could so much as stretch, he heard a click, and the toy inside him started vibrating.

Ron whimpered, shifting a little from foot to foot. His dick ached.

“I’m glad I gagged you,” James said, voice a bit breathy. “You’re making a lot of noise even with it. Come on, I want you to lay on the bed. We’ve only just warmed up and I’m not close to finished punishing you.”

James gave Ron’s arms a tug to get him moving, and Ron went where his master told him, prepared to accept whatever punishment he deserved.

Because he was a good boy.


	106. Henry, Sam, Todd, Road Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the Villain crew go for a drive and it does how you'd expect.
> 
> The first paragraph of this was sent to me as a [prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/172981801863/henry-has-the-beginnings-of-a-migraine-building) by a follower, and the rest is me taking the prompt and running with it.

Henry has the beginnings of a migraine building behind his eyes, an idiot sitting next to him who has picked the wrong time to indulge in his sense of whimsy, and a bound and gagged college freshman in the trunk of his car as he speeds along the highway. This is not how he intended his weekend to go, but Henry is nothing if not adaptable.

 

“Okay,” Henry said, reading road signs as they blew by. The persistent thumping from the trunk didn’t let up. “Okay, once we’re a little farther away from town, we can just find somewhere to drop him off. We’ll have to bash him over the head or something, but he can hitchhike home and…”

“Don’t be stupid, Henry,” Sam said, sighing a little dramatically. “We’re not doing that. Me and Todd went through a lot of trouble to kidnap him while you were in the store.”

Henry looked up in the rearview mirror, gave Todd a bit of a look in the backseat. Todd sullenly looked out the window. Henry had liked Todd a lot more before he’d hit puberty, stopped washing his hair and started stabbing people.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone together,” Henry muttered darkly, moving into the left lane to pass a lumbering minivan.

“You shouldn’t have taken so long in the store,” Sam corrected. “I got bored.”

“You had Todd.”

“You told me not to maim anyone in the parking lot.”

“I swear to God,” Henry grumbled. “You are such a child. Learn to control your impulses.”

“I don’t feel like it. Put some music on. That thumping is annoying.”

Henry reached for a CD to stick in the disc drive. “Not Brittany Spears,” Sam added.

Rolling his eyes, Henry moved aside _The Best of Brittany Spears_ and grabbed _Queen’s Greatest Hits_ instead, slipping into the slot. “The thumping wouldn’t be so annoying if you had hit him harder.”

“Blame Todd for that. I let him do that part.”

“Or, you know,” Henry added, glaring at the now blushing Todd again. “Not fucking kidnapped some guy in the first place.”

“Now you’re just being unrealistic,” Sam said as ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ started playing through the speakers. “I hate this song.”

“That’s because you have no taste. What’s his name?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

Henry shut his eyes for a second, just to fight back the headache. When he opened them again, sadly they hadn’t died in a fiery car crash. “You didn’t even ask his name? Classy, Sam.”

“We’re going to torture him to death and dump his body in the woods somewhere,” Sam said, exasperated. “Why should I care what his name is? It’s probably Mike or some stupid frat boy bullshit.”

The thumping finally stopped. “Oh, thank God,” Sam muttered. “Hopefully he knocked himself out.”

“Did you at least put something down in the trunk so he’s not getting hair and blood and piss everywhere?” Henry demanded.

“I thought you had a blanket in there.”

“I did, until you stole it to wrap up that homeless guy who you killed last week.”

“Oh, I forgot about him.” Sam made a little noise. “Then no.”

Henry sighed audibly. “I’m going to dump your body in the woods, I swear. Nobody’s going to find you and they’re definitely not going to look for you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam slumped in his seat. “Next time we pass one of those stupid small towns, stop at the hardware store. We don’t have anything to use on Mike.”

“I’m not buying you tools to torture someone with. Fuck.” Henry had to slam the brakes as some douchebag in a Porsche swerved in front of him, speeding off. Of all the people Sam could have kidnapped, he couldn’t have picked a guy like that?

“You have no sense of fun.”

“You’re a psychopath. And I’m not leaving you and Todd alone again or Mike’ll have made a friend by the time I get back.”

“I don’t understand what you think a road trip is for, Henry,” Sam said, turning a little in his seat. “You can do it. I’ll give you Henry’s wallet. Write this down.”

“Don’t have any paper,” Todd muttered to the window, as ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ started to play.

“You’ve got a phone, don’t you, dumbass?” Sam asked, annoyed. “Make a list. Hammer, saw, nails, pliers. Add anything else you want to use.”

“Bleach,” Todd suggested. “Box cutter.”

Henry sighed again, shaking his head. “Industrial garbage bags,” he added. “And aspirin. Lots of fucking aspirin.”

He turned the music up, speeding up. He couldn’t take Sam anywhere.


	107. Henry/Todd, Watching Porn (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Todd having sexual but non-touching bonding. I'm a bit behind posting these on Ao3--I got and filled this request before I had posted the recent chapter in which Henry and Todd, um, developed a different sort of relationship in the main story. I know the anon who requested this and they didn't want anything rapey, so it's pretty much just them bonding nicely and stuff, and of course it happens in the Modern AU.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173179730033/hmm-what-could-i-request-oh-i-know-can-i): "Hmm... What could I request. Oh I know! Can I request Watching Porn (number 99) with Henry and Todd? They should bond ;3" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

Henry couldn’t sleep and Sam had kicked him out of the bedroom for being too noisy, so he was wandering around the halls, hoping that a walk would help his brain shut off.

Then, as he wandered by the living room, he saw lights like from a screen on, which made him wonder who else was up. He poked his head in, saw someone sitting on the sofa in the darkened room, a laptop playing a video and headphones on. The stature suggested it was Todd.

Henry should have walked on by, but he didn’t. He didn’t get to talk to Todd much without Sam being there, and he was curious. So he went in the room, leaned on the back of the couch.

Todd started, looking up at him, around the same time that Henry saw the dude getting spit roasted on the screen. “Hey.”

Todd kind of just glared at him, lowering his headphones. “What?”

“Nothing. What are you watching?”

“What’s it look like?”

“Looks kind of like porn.”

“Wow.” Todd rolled his eyes. His fly was open and his tent was obvious in his boxers. His hand had been down there a second ago. “You’ve got to be the smartest guy I’ve ever met. What do you want?”

“Nothing. Just can’t sleep.” Henry shrugged. “And now I’m curious about what makes you want to watch porn out here. You’ve got a bedroom.”

“Wi-fi’s better out here,” Todd muttered, diverting his eyes back to the screen.

Henry wondered if that was the real reason, or if he had been hoping to be caught someday. It didn’t seem like the kind of game Todd would play with Sam. It would be a stupid game to play with Sam, Henry thought.

Of course, Sam wouldn’t have known he was there. Which maybe was the real game. Henry wondered, anyway.

“You want to sit?” Todd asked, nodding at the screen.

“You don’t mind me watching with you?” Henry asked, looking at Todd moreso than the porno.

Todd snorted. “Watching porn and jerking off together is like the least weird thing we’ve done together.”

“I guess so,” Henry agreed. Todd was a lot more talkative when Sam wasn’t around. So he came around, sat beside him on the couch. Todd scooted over a little to get away. “No touching.”

“Deal.” Henry was pretty okay with a no touching rule between them. They both dealt enough with touching that they didn’t want. Henry wasn’t even really in the mood to jerk off, but it would have been weird if he just sat there quietly while Todd stuck his hand back into his boxers.

“You do this often?” Henry asked, reaching into his sweatpants and playing with himself until he got hard.

Todd shrugged, the computer bouncing a little in his lap as he stroked himself. “I guess.” He suddenly shot Henry a furtive glance. “You’re…going to tell him about this, aren’t you?”

“No,” Henry said, wishing that Todd didn’t sound so accusatory. He wanted to explain himself, to explain that he helped Sam because he had to, because it was the only way to stop him hurting a lot more people. But that was only useful right now if he decided nobody should have a boner. So he didn’t. He just said, “I’m not going to tell him.”

“Okay,” Todd said, looking back at the screen. The guy in the middle was getting loads of cum pumped into him. “It’s getting to the good part.”

“Yeah?” Henry had gotten a nice rhythm going, so it was good that the video wasn’t over, he figured.

“Yeah.”

Sure enough, on screen, the middle guy was now being hoisted up, and the dude who’d been in his mouth was now shoving into his ass with the other guy, and they started fucking him together.

Henry watched the video, jerking himself at a good speed to keep his interest up, and he found himself ready to shoot before the climax. He arched his back as he did, making a mess in his sweatpants. About a minute later the guys in the porno started to cum, with faint moaning that Henry could hear through Todd’s headphones, and Todd came too, tensing up with a quiet “Fuck,” as he came in his boxers. Henry wondered if he’d paced himself so he’d only cum at the end.

The video played itself out in the next minute or so as the two of them sat there, breathing. When it was finished, Todd shut his laptop and stood up, wavering a little. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, not bothering to do up his pants.

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

Todd nodded, headed for the door.

“If you want,” Henry said, not getting up, “I could send you links to some good videos.”

Todd paused in the doorway, looking at Henry. “Do whatever you want.”

“Cool.”

“I’m here most nights around this time,” Todd said, hesitant. “If you can’t sleep again.” He shrugged. “I mean, I’m not the boss of where you go and it’s a big enough couch.”

Henry smiled a little, nodded over his shoulder. “Sure. Thanks.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Todd.”

Todd went off to bed, leaving Henry alone in the dark.

Not being able to sleep wasn’t so bad.


	108. James/Sam, Bondage (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in some AU in which Henry takes Sam to James to help him stop being such a dick.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173249998038/12-with-james-and-sam): "12 [Bondage/Restraints/Collars] with James and Sam?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

“You’ve been a bad boy, Sammy.”

On the bed, hands shackled to the headboard, Sam whimpered behind his gag. His gag was just his dirty briefs, so James wasn’t worried about him not being able to spit them out if he needed to.

Handcuffed to either bedpost and with his legs pushed apart by a nice spreader bar and hoisted up so his knees were on either side of his belly, with a second shackle keeping the bar in place by connecting it to the heavy collar on Sam’s neck, Sam was on full display for James. He had a tight little cage on his cock and a nice fat plug in his hole, and at least one of them would be staying there for a while.

James reached down, flipped the switch on the plug, got it vibrating. Sam whinged. “Don’t complain. I think you know you need to be punished, right?”

Sam just made a sound. James pinched his nipple. “You do. You’ve been out of control lately. You’ve upset a lot of people. You’ve even hurt some people. You need to be stopped. I think…I think you just need some discipline. Someone to rein you in. To put some control in your life. To control you. You want to be controlled, don’t you, Sam?”

Sam shook his head, spat out his gag. “Fuck you.”

James smirked. That wasn’t a safeword, so he was good. He grabbed the briefs, and stuck them right back in Sam’s mouth. “That’s okay. I don’t mind a challenge. You’ll be begging soon enough.”

James reached over to the bedside table, grabbed Sam’s phone. He opened it, found the camera. “Here. We’ll do a before and after picture.” The shutter went off loudly, and James took several pictures, noting how red Sam got, and not just in anger this time. “Send those to Henry,” he muttered, waiting a few seconds before doing so upon lack of protest. “Now, won’t it be nice in a few hours when we can send him another one that shows you behaving without being all chained up?”

Sam snarled something behind the gag, fighting against the shackles.

James sighed, reached up and grabbed Sam’s nose, plugging it. He held his hand there for fifteen seconds while Sam tried to get away, face getting redder and redder. Then he let go, letting Sam breathe in. “First thing we’re going to work on is your mouth,” he said, patting Sam’s cheek. “I’m sure you’d like to stop tasting your own dick, and I’d like you to taste mine. But first I need to know I can trust you not to bite it off.”

Sam made another noise. James figured he could interpret that one. “Don’t worry,” he said, reaching for his newest toy, one he’d gotten just for this. It would dispense little electric shocks when pressed to the skin. “I know it’s scary. But being a good boy isn’t as hard as it seems once you have someone to teach you.”

He flicked the toy onto the lowest setting, brushed it lightly over Sam’s left nipple, smiling when Sam started. “So let’s start your lesson.”


	109. Joey/Travis, I Missed You (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the first Joey and Travis request!

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173301212093/if-your-still-taking-prompts-joeytravis-45-please): "if your still taking prompts joey/travis 45 [I Missed You] please," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

“I missed you.”

Travis just looked at Joey, take-out bag in his hand. “I was gone for ten minutes.”

Joey nodded. He knew that. He’d been looking at the clock. “I know. But I missed you.”

Travis smiled, handing him the bag. He kissed Joey on the mouth, tasting like salt. He’d obviously had a few fries on the way back. “I missed you too. But you’re really going to get better at not seeing me for, you know. Short periods of time.”

That seemed stupid to Joey, so he ignored it, rifling through the take-out bag. “Does that mean you don’t want a welcome-back blowjob?”

Travis paused in the act of taking off his coat, looking at Joey. “Well. Of course I want a welcome-back blowjob.”

Joey grinned, turning around to set the bag on the table and then sitting right down on the floor in front of Travis. “I thought so.” He reached up, undid Travis’s button and zipper all at once, and reached right in, fishing out his hardening dick through the flap in his boxers. “Stop wearing these,” Joey chided.

“I like them.”

“And I like this,” Joey said, licking the head of Travis’s dick. “And I wish you’d stop hiding it.”

At Travis’s request, Joey was currently wearing clothes even though they were alone in the house. He wasn’t impressed and planned to fix that as soon as possible.

Anyway, Joey took Travis’s dick into his mouth before he could answer, and that was the end of that conversation. He sucked Travis to hardness, and when he was there, Joey took most of him in his mouth, licking down the length as he sucked. Travis put his hands in Joey’s hair, pulling like Joey liked it, encouraging Joey to suck harder.

Joey didn’t need that encouragement, and he worked Travis as best he could, which was pretty good, if he did say so himself. He’d practiced. He let Travis thrust gently in and out of his mouth, tackling what he could with is tongue based on how much of Travis he had in there.

Joey always knew when Travis was getting close because he started pulling harder on Joey’s hair, and so when the tugging on his scalp started to hurt a little, Joey moved forward, taking most of Travis in his mouth and holding him there, sucking hard.

Travis held perfectly still as he spoiled Joey’s dinner, feeding Joey a good load of cum in four spurts, which Joey happily swallowed all of. When Travis was done, Joey pulled off and looked up at him, giving him a kiss on his swollen head. “Welcome back.”

Travis laughed, and pulled Joey to his feet. He kissed Joey on the cheek. “Sorry I took so long. Should we eat?”

Joey grinned, and he pulled Travis over to the food without letting him tuck himself back into his clothes. “Yeah! We’ve got to eat all this so that the table’s clear when you fuck me on it later!”

He meant that, even though Travis laughed again. “You know, I really did miss you while I was gone.”

Joey pulled out a fry from the bag and stuck it in Travis’s mouth, kissing Travis on the cheek. “You were only gone ten minutes, silly.”

He’d missed Travis too.


	110. James/Ron, Role Reversal (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which James tries being the sub for a bit.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173373044638/jamesron-role-reversal): "James/Ron role reversal," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

James nodded, closed his eyes. He got down on his knees, and opened them, looking up at Ron.

Ron was wearing his black, looking down at James, arms crossed. “I didn’t ask you to get down there,” he said.

Oops. “I’m sorry,” James said, standing back up. “I thought…”

Ron reached out and cupped James’s chin. “No thinking. Just do as I say.”

James nodded. “Okay.”

“Take off your clothes.”

James nodded again, reached down for the hem of his shirt.

“Slowly,” Ron said. “I want to watch.”

“O-okay,” James said, slowly lifting his shirt over his head, really aware of Ron’s eyes on him the whole time. It was a strange feeling, though Ron saw him undress all the time. There was something different about it like this. 

Ron’s look was intense, strong. Hungry, in a way that made James wonder what he was going to do, even though he knew. As James dropped his shirt on the floor and moved on to his pants, Ron reached out and put his hands on James’s shoulders, not doing anything else, just touching.

When James was naked, standing there, exposed, Ron smiled at him. “You sure are pretty.”

“Thank you,” James said, flushing with heat. Ron had called him a lot of things before, but never that.

“Alright, pretty boy. Now you can kneel for me.”

James did, looking up at Ron expectantly. Ron stood in front of him, looking down, considering. “Do you like the view from down there?” he asked.

James nodded, swallowing with nervousness. “Yes,” he said, in a near-whisper. Ron towering over him was…very strange.

“Good.” Ron licked his lips. And he put his hands behind his head. “Open my pants.”

James nodded again, reaching up to do as he was told. Don’t think, he remembered. Just do what he was told. So all he did was open the pants, nothing else, watching Ron for further instructions.

“You look hungry,” Ron said. “You want a snack?”

James couldn’t help it, he snorted a laugh. That was…a stupid line.

“You laughing at me?” Ron asked, snickering a little.

“Sorry,” James said, trying to clear his head, trying to remember what he was doing. He nodded. “Yes, I’m hungry.”

“Then get to it, pretty boy.”

James did as he was told, taking Ron out of his pants as he got hard, and leaning forward to slip his lips around Ron, taking Ron in his mouth. Unused to this, he went slowly, wanting to make sure it was good for Ron, since Ron always did so well with him.

Ron seemed to be liking it if his sounds were any indication. He started out with nice little moans and whatnot, moving onto longer noises as James sucked harder. He rested his hands on James’s head. “Yeah…pretty boy…keep going…I like that…”

James made a content noise, glad he was making Ron happy. He bobbed his head up and down, trying to keep sucking the whole time. It was harder than he thought, and his jaw started to hurt a little, but James kept at it until Ron started to lean forward. “Ah. Pretty boy, I’m going to…”

And then he did, cumming into James’s mouth, making James swallow him. James did, though some leaked out, and he tried to breathe through his nose as he went.

He took deep breaths when Ron pulled out, hand resting on James’s head, panting. “Good job. Nice and full now, pretty boy?”

“Yeah,” James said, nodding.

Ron smiled, which turned a little sheepish as he looked down at James. “Um. I don’t really know what else do, well, do.”

James chuckled, coughing a little. He stood up. “It’s harder down there than you make it look,” he said.

Ron nodded. “Up here, too. Being in charge is weird.”

“Still,” James said, kissing Ron’s cheek. “It was fun to try. If you want, we could talk it over, decide some new stuff to do.”

Ron looked at him for a second, and grinned, he kissed James back. “Sure thing, pretty boy.”


	111. Joey/Travis, Size Kink, Come Marking (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone definitely picked up on Joey and Travis's primary kinks with this request, haha. And I approve.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173374631973/travis-and-joey-87-17-please-my-good-penguin): "Travis and Joey #87 [Size Kink] & #17 [Come Marking] please my good penguin," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

It was hard not to notice the way Travis looked at him. And not at all of him, but at one particular part of him. Joey knew that he was bigger than Travis between his legs, which Travis was endlessly fascinated by and seemed to be even more so now that they were in the human parts of the world and he’d started making Joey wear pants all the time.

Whenever he got to take his clothes off in an inn or their tent, Joey noticed Travis looking at him. Which was funny, because it wasn’t like Travis wasn’t allowed to just touch him.

He wondered how deep Travis’s interest in his dick went, so one night when they were undressing for bed, Joey sat on the bed after he’d taken off his clothes, smiling at Travis.

“What?” Travis asked, shirt hitting the floor. Sure enough, his eyes slid downwards from Joey’s face, just a little bit.

“Give me a blowjob,” Joey said, spreading his legs.

“Sure.” Travis always said that. He started to take off his pants.

Joey shook his head. “You can keep those on.”

“What? But…”

Joey smirked. “Why do you need to take them off? You’re so tiny in there it’s not like anything would change.”

“Hey!”

“Suck me off,” Joey insisted, leaning back a little as he got hard.

Travis looked at him funny for a minute, but he got down on his knees, pants still on, and scooted in between Joey’s legs, leaning in.

“Hm.” Joey took Travis by the hair, and grabbed his dick with his other hand. And instead of putting it in Travis’s mouth, he rubbed his cheek with it. “You like it, don’t you? This part.”

“Y-yeah…” Travis said, red in the face. He was hot against the head of Joey’s dick.

“You like how big it is.”

“I…yeah.”

Joey held his dick up against Travis’s face. “Look how much of your face it covers,” he said, giggling. “Later I’ll get you to take yours out and we can compare them for real.”

“I don’t think we…need to do that…” Travis said, embarrassed.

“Sure we do. But for now, why don’t you show me how much you like how big it is?” Joey asked, letting go of both Travis and himself. He leaned back on his hands, watching Travis.

Hand shaking a little, Travis reached up and took Joey in his hand. “Okay,” he said, worrying his lip a little. Then he leaned forward and licked Joey up the bottom of his shaft, from the root to the head. “So long,” he muttered, giving it a squeeze. “And I can barely get my hand around…”

Travis slid his hand down to the base, and put his other hand on Joey too. The head peeked out over his fingers. “Both my hands don’t even cover…” he kissed the part that wasn’t covered up, and Joey gasped a little. And again when his lips stayed there, and he started sucking, just on the very tip.

Joey let out a sound that was partly a growl, and Travis let go of his dick, and slid down, taking it into his mouth. He stopped about halfway, and pulled off, coughing. “Can’t even get it all in.”

“You could if you tried,” Joey muttered, resisting the urge to reach out and pull Travis forward.

Travis smiled at him. “You think? I don’t see how it’s going to fit in me.”

“It’s going to fit,” Joey promised, bucking his hips a bit to get him going. “Come on.”

“You’re the one who’s going to cum on,” Travis muttered, but he dutifully bent his head, slid down on Joey’s dick. Joey sighed his approval as he felt engulfed in Travis’s mouth, sliding deeper and deeper in. He hit the back of Travis’s throat, and Travis gagged again, pulling off partway, before trying again.

As he did that, he stroked Joey with his hand, playing with his balls in the other one. He kept trying to get all of Joey into his mouth, kept trying to relax his throat, kept coughing through his nose as Joey’s size daunted him.

Finally, though no more than three quarters of his length had been in Travis’s mouth at any one time, Joey felt himself about to cum. “Mmm…Travis, stop. Stop.” He reached up, grabbed Travis’s hair again, pulled him off. Joey popped out of his mouth just as he started to cum, shooting ropes all over Travis’s face and into his hair. Travis closed his eyes and let him do it, like he always did.

Joey made sure to get his cum all over as much of Travis as he could, to mark as much of him as he could as his, looking down at his face when he was done. “There,” he said, rubbing the head of his dick against Travis’s cum-stained cheek. “You’re so pretty all covered in me, Travis.”

“Sorry I couldn’t get it all in,” Travis said, beaming.

“That’s okay. I might have wasted all this cum shooting it down your throat if you had,” Joey told him. “And then how would we know you belonged to me?”

“Don’t know,” Travis admitted. “I’m sure you could have summoned another load eventually.”

Joey grinned now. “Maybe. But I’ve got plans for that one. Now you can take off your pants. You may not have gotten it all in my mouth, but you’ve got another little hole I bet I can fit into.”


	112. James/Ron/Sam, Bondage, Double Penetration (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sequel to the previous James/Sam prompt, in which Sam is still misbehaving and so more drastic measures are required.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173472358713/can-you-do-another-prompt-with-sam-and-james-with): "Can you do another prompt with Sam and James, with the theme being any two numbers that add up to 37?" [I chose 12, Bondage and 25, Double Penetration], by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

“I’m not sure why we have to keep coming back to this.”

Sam just scowled behind his gag. He was always scowling at the beginning. James had put a proper ball gag in his mouth today, and shackled his hands firmly behind his back with Sam kneeling on the floor in front of him. He had his cage on again and a bigger plug than usual inside him.

Ron was sitting in the corner, just waiting for his cue.

James let out a sigh that he made sure was audible. “Every week you come here, and I teach you how to be good. And you leave here behaving. And every week I get messages from Henry, telling me that you’re not listening to him again. I’m very disappointed in you, Sammy.”

It wasn’t like James didn’t know what was happening. Sam liked being punished, and Henry spoiled him at home, let him get away with everything. It was a bad combination.

Which was why this time he hadn’t sent Ron to teach Henry his own lessons about being in control. The two of them would do it together later. After they’d helped Sam out.

Sam made an annoyed sound behind his gag, and James held his nose. “Quiet,” he said. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, and you’re in no position to insult me. And we both know that it’s one of those two things that you’re trying to say there, so just be quiet.” Sam had a clicker in his right hand, which would make a sound if he needed to stop. He wasn’t using it yet, and if past performance was any indication, he wasn’t going to.

Sam fell quiet, head tilted away from James as James let go of his nose. He took in deep breaths while James nodded at Ron. Ron got up and came over, kneeling behind Sam. “You’ve been fighting Henry every time he tries to penetrate you,” James told him, as Ron opened a bottle of lube and rubbed it onto his dick. He was wearing a ring and a vibrator, and was fully hard. “So Ron and I are going to remind you what that hole is for,” James finished.

Sam made another noise, quickly stifled, as Ron pulled the plug out of him, and was quiet as Ron pulled him back a little. Ron slid inside Sam without a word, and Sam let in a long breath through his nose.

“You like that?” James liked that, stroking Sam’s cheek as Ron pulled him back farther, pressing all the way into Sam as he put Sam on full display for James, his legs spreading naturally. It was quite the sight. Sam didn’t answer, but James had told him to be quiet. “Ron’s smaller than the plug by a bit, I used a really big one.”

James uncapped the lube as he spoke, spread it on himself.

“Because I plan to really show you what you can do down here.”

James climbed up, on top of Sam, taxing Ron’s strength a little. And he pressed against Sam’s hole, meeting up with Ron’s dick. And with some difficult, James slid in as well.

It was really something. The feeling of Ron’s hot, hard, ringed dick against him. Sam’s tightness, clenching. Sam squirmed, whinged, but didn’t use his clicker, and when James was all the way inside him, he kissed Sam’s cheek. “There you go, I knew you wouldn’t have any trouble.”

James started sliding in and out, tapping Ron to get him to do the same, and together the two of them fucked the whinging Sam, a good rhythm between them, the room filled with James’s pants, Ron’s quiet grunts and Sam’s complaining behind the gag. He couldn’t even get hard with his cage on.

Too bad for him. This was a punishment.

Unfortunately it could only last so long, because James tensed up, clenching everywhere, and came inside Sam. Ron kept fucking him, but after a second of letting the sensation rub him, James pulled out, patting Sam on the cheek. “Felt good, didn’t it?”

Sam nodded, eyes screwed shut.

“I thought so. Ron volunteered to keep going on you for a while, just to drive the message home. That’s what a good boy does for his master.” James smiled at Ron, leaning over and kissing on him on the cheek while Ron beamed. “I’ll give you a big reward later for being so good.”

Ron had been instructed not to speak, so instead he just responded by going harder into Sam, as if the cock ring wouldn’t be driving him crazy in a few minutes.

James got up stretched. “I’m just going to watch you two for a bit. Keep being good and it won’t be more than an hour before we move on to the next part of your punishment, Sammy.”

Ron rolled them over as James retreated to his chair in the corner. He propped Sam up on his knees, face on the floor, and started going at him harder from behind, absolutely determined to do his part in making Sam into the good boy he wanted to be, deep down.

James smiled as he watched them. They’d get Sam there, eventually.


	113. Henry/Sam, Role Reversal (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have a role reversal in which Henry decides to play rapist for a night.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173473141148/if-youre-still-doing-prompts-id-love-to-see-75): "if you're still doing prompts i'd love to see 75 w/ some good ol' sam and henry," by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

Sam was hard in his sleep, which was enough to convince Henry it was fine.

He was sprawled naked across half the bed, practically inviting Henry to touch him. And Henry couldn’t sleep, and he was hard too. So he was going to touch Sam.

It wasn’t like asking for permission had ever been a feature of their relationship.

Henry didn’t screw around. He knew what he wanted to do, and he needed to get at least partway there before Sam woke up. So he got the oil from the bedside table, poured some on his cock, and then some on his fingers. And without preamble, he reached down and pushed a finger inside Sam, then a second one right after. Sam squirmed, stirring, but Henry didn’t care. He scissored his fingers, then added a third. Sam whimpered in pain.

Henry pulled his fingers out, climbing on top of Sam, guiding his cock with one hand. He pressed it against Sam’s entrance, then inside with a pop.

Sam made a noise, woke up. “Henry, what the fuck…”

“Shut up,” Henry told him, driving hard into Sam. Sam cried out, loud, as Henry pushed all the way into him, filling Sam’s tight little hole all at once. He put his right forearm on Sam’s collarbone, just below his throat, and fisted Sam’s dick in his right hand as he went, jerking him off.

“Stop…”

“No,” Henry said, fucking Sam now, not bothering to so slowly with either his hips or his hand. Sam struggled underneath him, and Henry felt crawling all over his skin as Sam grasped at his power, but Henry kept at it, undeterred.

“You’re hurting me, you…” He was crying.

“Good,” Henry panted, working up a sweat as his hips moved back and forth with as much speed as he could muster. He should have turned Sam over, done this from behind. But he might have woken Sam up if he’d tried that.

For all of Sam’s power crawling, for all his squirming, Sam didn’t try to stop Henry, and he surprised Henry by making a loud noise as cumming under Henry’s hand, clenching hard around Henry in the process.

Henry drove hard into him in response, his own orgasm building. It crept up on his slowly, clearly there but taking its time, building with every thrust. And when it came, Henry exploded with a raw shout, pumping Sam’s ass full of cum, more of it than he’d anticipated.

When he was done, Henry collapsed on top of Sam, breathing hard. “Going to fucking…get you for that,” Sam promised, choking a little.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut it.” Henry couldn’t bring himself to care, especially not in his post-orgasmic cloud. “You give it out just fine, but suddenly it’s your turn to take it and you bawl.”

“I’m not fucking…just get out of me.”

Henry smirked to himself. “No. I’m going to go again in a few minutes, and you’re going to let me.”

“Am I?” Sam gave a harsh laugh. “And what delusion has led you to believe that?”

Henry gave one hard thrust, enough to make Sam gasp. “Because you liked it, you little pervert.”

“Don’t fucking kid yourself.”

“Well,” Henry said, touching Sam’s face. “Turns out it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. So get ready, because I’m going again.”

Sam squirmed and pushed and fought, but in the end Henry got what he wanted.


	114. Todd/Derek, Daddy Kink, Almost Getting Caught (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another rape scene between our favourite rape victims.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/173819650503/can-i-request-3-almost-getting-caught-and-21): "Can I request 3. almost getting caught and 21. daddy kink for Todd and Derek?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

It was just that Derek asked for it with everything he did.

Todd probably wouldn’t want to fuck him all the time if he wasn’t so good at asking for it without saying anything. Todd didn’t even like boys, but when Derek couldn’t eat without getting sauce on his lips and then licking it off, how was he supposed to not stick his dick in there for a lick? When Derek couldn’t bathe without soaping himself up as slowly as possible, knowing Todd was watching him, how was Todd not supposed to pin him to the wall?

And when Derek couldn’t make a bed without bending over and sticking his butt out behind him, how was Todd supposed to not want to fuck him?

Even with one good arm, Todd worked faster than Derek, finishing most of the cleaning by the time Derek was laying the quilt on the king’s bed. He was kind of a useless servant. It was a good thing he had other uses.

He was standing there, bent over the bed, smoothing out it, butt out. Todd swallowed, glancing at the door before heading over there. It would be a bit yet before the king and Henry got back.

So he got behind Derek, who glanced nervously at him over his shoulder. “I’m done,” he said quietly. “Sorry it took…”

He started to straighten, and Todd pushed him back down, hand immediately coming down to his butt, squeezing it. “It’s fine.”

“Todd…”

“Pull your pants down,” Todd told him, grabbing his own and unbuttoning them, pushing them down with one hand and pulling his hardening dick out of his smallclothes.

“But…”

“Now, dumbass.”

Derek did as he was told, a quiet whimper escaping his lips. “What if they come back?”

Todd snorted. “What are they going to do, rape us?” He licked his hand, used it to wet his dick just a little as Derek exposed his butt. The prospect of being caught, of the king and Henry coming back and finding them like this, was making his heart beat faster, was making him harder. Part of him was scared, of course. But another part of him was excited. “Not that it’s rape if you like it.”

“I don’t…”

“Oh, shut up,” Todd said, pressing against Derek’s hole now. “You liked it when the king fucked you that night. You always like it. I can tell. You’re always waiting for me to do it again. Fucking pervert.” Derek had cum more than once that night, Todd knew. You didn’t cum if you didn’t like it.

“I…” Derek started to cry as Todd pressed into him. “They’re doing to come back soon…”

“Calm down, we’ll be done before daddy gets back,” Todd growled, giving a thrust to get in there. Then he smirked, an idea coming to him. “I’m your daddy today.”

“What?”

“Call me daddy,” Todd demanded. “And I won’t hit you.”

“But…”

Todd hit him.

“Ah. I’m sorry!” Derek was such a fucking wimp. One hit and he was all tears and apologies, every time. “I’m sorry…daddy.”

Todd felt a rush at that. “That’s better, you little slut,” Todd said, and he started fucking Derek properly, as hard as he could with one arm to brace himself. “You like this, don’t you? You like daddy’s cock inside you?”

“N…yes, d-daddy, I do…” Derek cried, getting the hint. He wasn’t totally stupid.

“Yeah…I know you do…” Todd panted, cock throbbing. “You always want me up here, I can see it. You’ll be…so much happier…once you stop pretending you don’t want it…”

“Daddy…” Derek sobbed.

“You want daddy’s cum?” Todd asked, speeding up. He was close. “You want daddy to fill you up, slut?”

“Y-yes, daddy…”

“Good, here it…” The door clicked open, and Todd felt his heart skip as he started to shoot inside Derek, freezing still as the door opened just a bit, the king’s voice drifting in. They were caught, they were…

They weren’t. The door stopped, the voices of the king and Henry drifting through. They were talking pretty intensely about something.

Todd finished cumming inside Derek and he pulled out right away, quickly tucking himself into his pants and trying to button them up again. “Quiet,” he hissed at Derek, who was crying. Both of them had their eyes glued to the door. “Pull your pants up.”

Derek did, as slowly as he fucking could. Todd got his pants done up before Derek, and reached over and did up Derek’s button with his one good hand. Todd was still hard as a rock. He could go again right now. Hopefully Henry didn’t notice.

The door swung open the rest of the way, and Todd had to yank his hand away, pretending it was there so he could tug the blankets into place. The king came in the room, followed by Henry. “I don’t care about some stupid peasants,” he was saying. “They can die.”

“That’s not how it works, Sam,” Henry said, glancing over at them.

Todd glared at Derek to make him stop crying, and tugged his hand to get him away from the bed.

The king heard them, head tilting. “I don’t have the patience for you two idiots right now,” he said, heading for a chair. “Get out.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Todd said, swallowing audibly as he pulled Derek from the room as fast as propriety would allow. Henry watched them the whole way. He knew, Todd was sure he knew.

But he didn’t say anything, and soon they were in the hallway. Todd let out a sigh. Derek was pale as a sheet.

Todd grinned at him, pulling the door shut. “That was close.”

Derek nodded, tears under control now. “Y-yeah…”

Todd leaned forward, kissed him, pressing his body against Derek’s, so Derek would feel that he was still hard. “You liked it, though.”

“N-no…”

“Sure you did. You always do. Don’t worry,” Todd said, taking Derek’s hand again and pulling him down the hallway, towards their room. “Daddy’s going to take good care of you.”


	115. Nate/Pax, Delayed Gratification, No Speaking (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt here was technically delayed gratification...I may have cheated by delaying gratification until after the end, but oh well. 
> 
> The no speaking was hard, but very fun to work through.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174102072833/can-i-request-some-nate-pax-22-delayed): "Can I request some Nate & Pax: #22. delayed gratification/teasing & #64. no speaking plz?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

Nate ran his hand up Pax’s thigh, stroking him gently as he licked Pax’s throbbing head. Pax shuddered under the touch, but could do nothing, at Nate’s mercy.

Nate wasn’t feeling particularly merciful tonight.

Pax sucked on Nate as Nate worked him, going gently because he knew there was no point in going harder. The number of times he made Nate cum had no bearing on whether or not he’d be allowed to go, and he knew it.

He’d asked Nate to be in charge tonight, and Nate had only made two rules: Pax wasn’t allowed to cum unless Nate decided he could, and Pax wasn’t allowed to talk. He’d been having a hard time following that second rule until Nate had moved into this position and stuck his cock in Pax’s mouth to keep him mostly quiet.

Pax gave him a particularly good, long suck, and Nate rewarded him by lapping at the fluid that kept collecting on his head. Pax shuddered, and this time he didn’t stop, and Nate stopped stroking, pulling back a little, waiting to see if he was going to need to squeeze him again to stop him from cumming. He’d only had to do that once so far; Pax claimed he could hold in an orgasm for three straight days if he had to.

If only they weren’t both on duty in the morning, Nate would have loved to test that. Someday, maybe.

But for now he waited, and sure enough, Pax managed to get himself under control. He really was very impressive, Nate thought, waiting another second before stroking him again. Pax made a little whinging noise, and Nate smiled, not letting up.

Pax said he could go for three days. They’d only been at it for two hours, but Nate wasn’t anywhere near being bored yet.

He was near to another orgasm, though, so, smirking, Nate squeezed Pax carefully, because he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back through this. And he put his mouth over Pax, sucking him at the same speed and power that Pax was sucking him.

Pax moaned around his dick, and Nate couldn’t help but move his hips a little, sliding in farther. Pax let him, sucking him down, allowing Nate into his throat, and Nate took in as much of Pax as he could without moving his hand, giving his love what he wanted. Or at least part of what he wanted.

Nate made a noise too as he came into Pax’s mouth, pulling back a bit so he didn’t choke Pax, but not pulling out all the way. He knew Pax could swallow. And swallow Pax did, drinking Nate down like he was dying. Nate sucked Pax all through his own orgasm, loving the way that Pax shuddered and whimpered as he did. He kept sucking for a second after he finished shooting, before finally letting up, sliding his head off Pax’s erection, and just watching it throb and twitch in his hand, unable to explode like it wanted to.

He kissed Pax’s engorged head, holding him tight for nearly a solid minute until Pax calmed down enough and stopped shuddering, breathing hard through his nose, still sucking gently on Nate.

Nate smiled, gave Pax another kiss, and loosened his hand, still stroking him. Pax was warm on his dick and touching his body, and in Nate’s hand and everywhere, Pax was warm and Nate loved that. And for once Nate had Pax completely in his power, and he wasn’t about to give that up anytime soon. There were plenty more hours left in the night.


	116. Henry/Sam, Multiple Orgasms, I Missed You (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Sam and Henry bit. Thanks to recent developments in the story, I can start writing Henry being the shitty one sometimes, when the prompt calls for it. :) He's got a different brand of shittiness than Sam.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174198885543/i-missed-you-and-multiple-orgasms-for-sam-and): "“I missed you” and multiple orgasms for Sam and Henry?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

“Say it.”

“Fuck off.”

Henry sighed, kept jerking Sam off. Sam was naked, splayed out on the bed, writhing under Henry’s hand. Being recalcitrant, as usual. “It’s not hard.”

“I’m not playing this game with you,” Sam hissed.

Henry smiled. “Yes, you are.” He’d been gone for two weeks on a stupid trip for Sam that had involved killing fifteen people, and Sam hadn’t even had the decency to say hello to him when he’d come in. He’d been of a mind to not let Sam cum, but now he had another idea, and Henry stopped squeezing and just jerked Sam off, faster than before.

A moment later Sam came, splattering his naked chest with a sigh of relief. He was smiling. “I knew you couldn’t hold out.”

“Did you?” Henry asked, continuing jerking Sam off at the same pace. “You weren’t pent up at all while I was gone, were you? You had Todd and Derek here. I didn’t have anyone.”

“I wasn’t, ah, stopping you from finding someone,” Sam hissed, sensitive. Henry didn’t let up.

“I should have,” Henry muttered, but he hadn’t. “But I knew I had you to come back to.”

“You’re…an idiot…”

“Uh-huh. And I’m your idiot, and you missed me.”

“I did not…”

“Admit you missed me, Sam.”

“I’m not…ah!” Sam came again under Henry’s insistent hand. Henry smiled. And kept jerking him. “Stop…”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Henry said. “Not until you say you missed me.”

“Why would I…” Sam’s face was contorted in discomfort. “Miss you…”

Henry smirked, enjoying himself now. He licked his fingers on his other hand, and roughly stuck them inside Sam’s hole, fingering him as he jerked Sam off. Sam moaned pitifully, writhing. “Because I’m the only person who’s not afraid to be mean to you when you’re being a little shit.”

“F-fuck you…” Sam grated, eyes squeezed shut against the sensation. Henry just kept going, ruthless. And he got Sam to cum a third time, with a cry that sounded pained.

“Aw, does it hurt?” Henry asked, in a baby voice.

“You…I’m going to make you…”

“Regret this, I know,” Henry interrupted, adding a third finger and twisting his wrist a little. Sam cried out again. “You always do. But in the meantime, you’re going to play house with me and say ‘welcome back, Henry, how was your trip, I missed you.’”

Sam just whimpered voicelessly, silently refusing. Henry shrugged and just kept going. He had to admit, Sam impressed him. He held out through the fourth orgasm, barely even shooting anything. He started crying, as he realized he was going to have to give in, that Henry wasn’t going to stop.

He was building to his fifth orgasm when Sam broke. “Okay, okay,” he said, choking. “I…missed you. Welcome back. How…how was…your trip?”

“Say it again,” Henry said, spreading his fingers.

“I missed you!” Sam cried. “I missed you, okay?”

Henry smiled, took his hand away, his fingers out. “Now was that so hard?”

Sam just lay there, panting, recovering.

Henry unzipped his jeans, pulled out his cock.

“What are you…”

“I haven’t cum yet,” Henry told Sam as he climbed on top of him, pushed his legs apart. “You don’t expect me to be gone all this time and not want to get laid when I get home, do you?”

“Henry, you…”

Henry smirked, pressed inside Sam without preamble. “Oh,” he said, sighing. “Yeah. There we go, that’s nice. This is how I like to come home.” Sam was wriggling, struggling a little, panting, flushed. Henry smiled. “Oh, right.” He leaned down, kissed Sam on the forehead as he started fucking him. “I missed you too.”


	117. Theodore/Sam, Dom/Sub, Multiple Orgasms (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to really like writing Sam as a sub, haha.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174391427598/theodoresam-domsub-multiple-orgasms): "Theodore/Sam: dom/sub + multiple orgasms?" by an anon, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

Theodore sighed as he thrust deep into Sam, orgasm overtaking him for the second time that night. Sam kept perfectly still as Theodore filled him up, and Theodore stroked Sam’s face as he did. “Much better,” Theodore said, when he was finished.

Sam squirmed a little, but considering how much he’d been moving around the first time Theodore had penetrated him, Theodore was still happy with how well he was behaving. He pulled out of Sam, carefully inserting his plug, and the patted him on the thigh. “You’ve calmed down a little, it seems.”

Sam didn’t say anything, but that might be because of the ball gag in his mouth. So Theodore undid that, letting him speak. Aside from that and the plug and cock ring, and his collar, of course, he hadn’t tied Sam up yet. “F…” Sam began.

“Think very carefully about what you’re about to say,” Theodore advised. He got up, crossed the bedroom and sat in the armchair, leaving Sam on the floor. “It will determine how nicely I treat you for the rest of the evening.”

Sam demurred, huffing.

Theodore used Sam’s discarded shirt to wipe his erection clean, then leaned back a little. “Come here,” he ordered. Sam started to stand, but Theodore said, “Ah, you know better.”

With another huff, Sam stayed on his knees and crawled over to the chair, finding Theodore’s leg and kneeling between his legs, resting his head on Theodore’s thigh.

Smiling warmly, Theodore just sat there for a moment, stroking Sam’s hair absently. He really was a very cute boy.

It was too bad about his personality.

But when he chose not to misbehave, he was one of the most interesting subs Theodore had had. He could take a lot, and he wanted a lot. He demanded a great deal from Theodore, not making himself easy to care for. But Theodore was up to the challenge.

Even if that sometimes required a little bit of pharmacological help, which it had tonight. As a result, two forays into Sam’s rear end wasn’t near enough to satisfy him. So after a nice moment of stroking Sam, Theodore guided Sam’s head towards his erection, trusting Sam to get the hint.

Sam did, slipping his mouth over Theodore’s cock and sucking at the head the way Theodore liked before sliding down on it, bobbing his head up and down as he worked Theodore. Theodore put a hand on his head, then slid it down the back of Sam’s neck, playing with his collar. He stayed silent, as he always did, letting Sam know he was doing well by touching him gently as he worked.

Theodore didn’t warn Sam before he came, but Sam easily swallowed his gift, slowing down his sucking to do so. When he was finished, he stayed there, waiting for instruction. Sometimes Theodore had him pull off, sometimes he had him keep sucking.

Tonight Theodore chose to make him wait a little while, just keeping his hand on the back of Sam’s neck, looking down at him and not saying anything while Sam held Theodore in his mouth without moving. Theodore was still hard and he already knew he planned to have Sam continue sucking in a moment, but patience was a virtue that Sam struggled with on his good days, and one Theodore wanted to instill in him.

To Sam’s credit, he held still for ten minutes before getting fidgety, and Theodore put his hand on top of Sam’s head and held him firmly in place for another five before patting him. “You may keep sucking,” he said, and Sam did immediately as if starving.

Theodore took his hand away and let Sam do as he pleased, closing his eyes and leaning into the chair to enjoy it. Sam sucked him down, taking Theodore into his throat—a skill he’d been practicing—and holding that for as long as he could, sucking hard. He let Theodore out of his throat, then back in, sliding up and down and repeatedly choking himself on Theodore’s cock.

It was hardly a surprise when Theodore came again, all the way down Sam’s throat this time. He wanted to hold Sam down, but he didn’t, he let Sam set the pace, decide how much he wanted. Sam went full-tilt as he always did, refusing to budge until Theodore was done shooting. When he pulled off, he coughed a little, and then looked annoyed with himself.

Theodore chuckled. “You did very well, Sam. Thank you.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Sam demanded. “Just thank you?”

Theodore pulled him to his feet, kissed his cheek, and turned him around. “Endeavour not to start misbehaving now.” He pulled the plug out slowly, then pulled Sam into his lap, sliding back inside him and wrapping his arm around Sam’s belly. “I’m of a mind to reward you for being so good tonight.”

“You could let me have an orgasm,” Sam grumbled.

Theodore gave a gentle thrust, chuckling as he brushed his hand over the ring on Sam’s ignored erection. “Don’t be silly. I shall read the next chapter of our book to you, how does that sound?”

“Fine.” Sam always pretended he didn’t like being read to, but all Theodore had to do was withhold it for a few days and he got cranky.

Theodore set a gentle pace and found the book he’d been reading to Sam, opening it to the chapter and beginning to read. He ended up filling Sam three more times before the medication started to wear off, and by the time he tucked the washed and re-plugged Sam into bed for the night, Theodore thought that he’d never seen his sub more content.


	118. Gavin, James and Alcohol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I get sfw prompts too! And I also write those! And this one was a lot of fun. :)

Based on a [prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174423644498/sooo-i-found-your-what-sort-of-drunks-are-your) for drunk James and Gavin, itself based on [this](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/156228280148/what-sort-of-drunks-are-your-various-ocs-i) ask about the characters being drunk. 

\---

“I think…I know how to fix windows.”

“Are windows broken?” Gavin asked, sipping his wine. “I guess some of them are.” He giggled at his own joke. Gavin was funny.

James shook his head though. “Yes. When you open them they let bugs inside. I know how to fix them so they don’t do that anymore.”

Gavin noticed that James’s glass was empty, but he fixed that right away by pouring him more wine. He was having more fun than he expected hanging out with Owen’s cousin’s boyfriend while Owen and Ron had gone off to do some cousinly bonding thing that involved seeing Deadpool. Gavin hadn’t liked the first one and James had thought was about zombies.

So Gavin and James were here getting smashed while Owen and Ron saw a dumb movie and then went to some bar that was decorated with flannel and antlers. Gavin laughed again at that image, downing another glass. He was starting to get to the point where he’d had too much, but he wasn’t there yet, so more wine.

“How are you going to fix them?” Gavin asked. He was pretty sure someone had already fixed he problem with bugs coming in through open windows, but he wouldn’t remember who.

“I’m going to…” James wavered a little, unbalanced, though he hadn’t gotten up from the couch. “I’m going to turn them _sideways_ ,” he said, nodding seriously.

Gavin frowned, trying to picture that. “I don’t get it.”

“If I turn them sideways,” James explained, looking seriously at Gavin, “the bugs won’t be able to see them, because they can’t tilt their heads.”

Gavin looked at James for a minute, considering that. “You’re right,” he said slowly, nodding. “That’s a good idea.” He didn’t see any flaws with it.

“It’s a great idea,” James said, swaying again. He was trying to stand up, Gavin realized. “I’m really smart. I also know how to fix bugs so they’ll only bite the people I don’t like. Also, I think we should start having school on the moon.”

“But then they’d have to fake a bus leaving every morning,” Gavin giggled, erupting into full laughter. James laughed with him. Neither of them had ever ridden a school bus.

“Ron always tries to discourage my ideas,” James informed Gavin. “He says I have to wait until I’m sober to do them.”

Gavin snorted. “You should spank him.”

James got a serious expression on his face, nodding. “I will. Good idea.”

“I can have those too,” Gavin told him. “But all of mine have to do with getting laid.”

“When I need ideas for that,” James told him conspiratorially, words slurring a bit. “I just ask the plants. Or Spike, but he answers in too much detail.”

“Do plants know about sex?” Gavin asked.

James nodded, then fell over, and nodded up at Gavin from his new position laying on the couch. At least his cup was empty again. “Lots. I came up with a way to let people talk to them a while ago, but I need to build a hydroelectric dam through the highway and also sixty-eight tonnes of peanut butter.”

“I can probably get you that,” Gavin told him, nodding again. He wondered if there was more wine. “I have lots of money, so…”

The door opened, and in came Owen, with Ron. “Owen!” Gavin grinned, stood up, nearly fell over, then staggered forward. James was trying to get off the couch but was foiled by the couch cushions. “How was the stupid movie?”

Owen grinned dopily, then came over and kissed Gavin on the cheek. His breath smelled like beer. “You’re drunk,” Gavin accused.

“So’re you,” Owen said, pushing Gavin back onto the couch and cuddling with him there. “We came home because Ron was starting to get pouty.”

“Was not,” Ron pouted, coming over and helping James sit up, sitting with him. James wriggled into Ron’s lap. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” James said, patting Ron’s face. “Gavin agrees with my idea about school on the moon.”

“How much did you have to drink?” Ron asked him, smiling now.

James shrugged, which made him fall over again, and Ron had to catch him. “One glass?”

“There are three empty wine bottles on the table,” Owen told him.

Gavin giggled. “There are six empty wine bottles on the table, silly.”

“I only had one glass,” James insisted, holding it up. “See? It’s right here. Also, let’s make wine glasses bigger by making them out of rocks. Rocks are bigger than glass.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works?” Ron asked, squinting.

“That’s because you need to drink more,” Gavin decided, getting up and wandering over to the liquor cabinet, which he’d temporarily forgotten the location of. He got another bottle of wine and came back with it. “Here, I’ll fix that.”

This was a lot of fun, Gavin thought. He hoped that Owen and Ron went out for more cousinly bonding sometime. He really wanted to try turning those windows sideways.


	119. Derek, Todd, Sam, Henry, Road Trip, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More road trip fun, a continuation of the first part (ch. 106).

The first paragraph was sent in as a [prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174454979748/fuck-derek-sighs-and-then-tries-not-to-laugh) by a follower. The rest is me. 

\---

“Fuck,“ Derek sighs, and then tries not to laugh, because he knows he’s in the trunk of a of a car by virtue of the fact that this is so so far from the first time he’s been kidnapped. Which isn’t even funny in itself, it’s just- what even is his life that this is almost normal?

This is literally the fifth time in three months, and Derek was starting to get sick of it. What was it about him that attracted kidnappers? Sam said it was because he was a coward who couldn’t say no. Todd said it was because he was cute. Henry said it was because he was an easy target.

Derek didn’t know which of those three things it was, but here he was, stuffed in the trunk of another car, bumping along to parts unknown. Ever since Sam had kidnapped him to keep his parents from doing anything stupid, this was the sort of thing that happened to Derek and it _sucked_.

He didn’t know how far away they were going to take him, how long he was going to be in the car. He was going to be tied up and maybe beaten or raped if Henry didn’t come get him in time. They probably weren’t going to feed him, and he was hungry. And Derek had math homework due tomorrow that he hadn’t started yet, and now he was going to be here all afternoon.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, wiggling a little. His feet were tied together, and his hands too. They hadn’t gagged him, which was stupid. And he was bound with what seemed to be lengths of cloth instead of proper rope or zip ties like a normal kidnapper. These people had no idea what they were doing.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d been picked up on the street and kidnapped in broad daylight, he’d been picked up and kidnapped in broad daylight by _amateurs_.

Though it did seem like they’d emptied his pockets, which was annoying. He’d had some eggnog-flavoured gum in there that he’d bought.

Derek didn’t move too much or make any loud noises to let his kidnappers know he was awake. He did manage to top his heels together so that the stupid light-up shoes that Todd had given him as a joke—“first graders really like these, don’t they?” as if Todd and Derek weren’t almost the same age—would give some dim red blinking to the dark trunk of the car.

It was pretty spacious for a car trunk, and pretty clean, only a few things scattered around. Some yellow rope—that they hadn’t used to tie Derek up—in one corner, some blankets down by his feet, a spare car battery, a shape that looked like a flashlight. Derek wriggled towards that, reaching for it since his hands were tied in front of him. He managed to get it on, looked around some more, turning over.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, eyes falling on something that had been behind his head. He dropped the flashlight and grabbed it with difficulty. A box cutter. Who had a box cutter in their trunk, and who left a box cutter in their trunk when they were going to put a kidnap victim in there?

Fucking idiots. Derek almost felt bad for them. He cut open the bonds on his wrists, and then on his ankles, and then stretched as best he could in the car. He reached into his pocket just in case the gum was still there, but nope, not even a piece.

So, figuring he’d just stab someone when the trunk was opened, Derek rolled over, box cutter in hand, ready to stab whoever had stolen his gum. He’d been just going to cut them a little bit so they didn’t touch him, but now he kind of wanted to try killing someone.

The car stopped after a bit, and Derek heard a door slam shut, voices. He gripped the box cutter, wishing he had something to chew. His kidnappers better not be chewing it. He’d bought that himself, with his own money. He liked eggnog. 

Derek closed his eyes as the trunk unlatched, swinging open, box cutter hidden under his other arm. “Still asleep,” a voice he recognized said. “Idiot.”

Derek slashed out with the box cutter as a hand grabbed him, indiscriminately attacking. His abductor cried out, pulled away.

Derek scrambled, got into a good position and launched himself out of the trunk, colliding with his attacker and falling to the ground with him, weapon raised. “Give me back my gum, you…Todd?”

It was Todd laying there on the ground underneath him, clutching his bleeding hand, eyes squeezed shut. “The fuck, you…”

Derek heard laughter, looked up to see Sam standing nearby, clutching his stomach. “I told you to be careful, dumbass.”

“You didn’t tell me you gave him a knife!” Todd shouted.

“It’s a box cutter,” Derek muttered, looking around. Hesitantly, he got off of Todd, looking over at Sam. Henry was standing on the other side of the car, shaking his head. He approached Sam. “Give me back my gum.”

Sam was still laughing. “Todd ate it already.”

Derek glared at Todd, went over and kicked him in the side. “Jerk.”

Derek should have cut him some more.

“It was gross anyway. You’re going to pay for that,” Todd gritted against the pain, still clutching his hand as he sat up.

“I already did! I bought that gum with my money, you turd.”

Actually, he’d bought it with loose change that he’d found in Todd’s room, but that was neither here nor there.

“I think he meant the stabbing, Derek,” Henry said, nodding at the box cutter.

“Oh.” Derek looked down at it, dripping with Todd’s blood. “I guess. Whatever. Where are we?” They were in some garage that Derek had never seen before. The windows were all boarded up.

“Where Todd was going to film your ransom video,” Sam told him, getting himself under control.

“What…”

“He needs practice kidnapping properly,” Henry explained, reasonably. “And you need practice not getting kidnapped. We decided to start you both out on easy mode.”

Derek just looked at Henry. Then he rolled his eyes, tossed the box cutter away. “Is there any food?” he asked, looking around.

“Easy mode doesn’t have a knife,” Todd accused.

“You should have checked the trunk before you stuck him in it,” Henry retorted.

“And you should have tied me up better,” Derek added. “Even without the box cutter I’d have gotten out of that in like two seconds.”

“Told you.”

“Shut up,” Todd muttered, standing, glowering at all of them.

“Can we go home?” Derek asked. “I have math homework.” And no gum. He wasn’t in the mood for Todd. “And I’m hungry.”

“Let’s go out for supper,” Sam said to Henry, turning back to the car. “We’ll go to one of those family restaurants and give Todd an on-site lesson in scoping out good victims.”

“I know how to pick out a victim!”

“Yeah, sure you do.” Henry said. “The last guy you picked had people looking for him inside two hours. You suck at it.”

“Fuck you,” Todd muttered, quiet enough that Henry wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Yeah, well…”

Derek just sighed and followed them back to the car. He just wanted to go and do his homework. He just wanted to have a normal meal. He just wanted his fucking gum. Why was this his life?


	120. Derek, Todd, Sam, Henry, Road Trip, pt. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one wasn't formally prompted, but the person who prompted the first two asked how I felt about writing a third part and I had already kind of wanted to, so [here](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174490324908/road-trip-part-3) it is.

“What about that guy?”

Derek just ate his French fries, glancing over at the man Todd had picked out as a kidnapping victim. They weren’t actually going to kidnap anyone, probably. But you never knew with these people. They were all fucking nuts.

He was scrawny, greasy, alone and hadn’t looked up from his phone even to order from the waitress earlier. Derek wouldn’t have kidnapped him in a million years.

“Why him?” Henry asked, hamburger in one hand.

“Because…he’s alone, he has no friends. He probably didn’t drive here so we wouldn’t have to steal his car,” Todd reasoned.

“And what about all the people he’s texting?” Henry asked. “You don’t think they’d notice if he suddenly stopped answering?”

“Well…” Todd scowled. “We could take his phone and pretend to be him and say he had to go away.”

“And risk them noticing that you don’t text the way he does?” Sam snorted. “No. Next.”

Todd made a noise. “What about that waitress? The one with the bandage on her arm.”

“And the engagement ring on her finger? No.”

“That kid, then. The stupid one.”

He was kind of a stupid kid, Derek had to admit. He kept jumping up and down in his chair and falling over. His parents weren’t doing much to control him. They should spank him or something. “He’s here with his parents, dumbass,” Sam said. “Are you even trying?”

“Well…” Todd made another noise, slurped his Pepsi. “Whatever. Not my fault if there’s nobody here worth kidnapping.”

Derek had been watching everyone in the restaurant—not because he wanted to kidnap anyone, Derek wasn’t a psycho like the rest of them—and he didn’t totally agree. But he didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes. Todd kicked him under the table. “I saw that.”

“Whatever,” Derek muttered. “Can’t we just have a normal supper for once? Talk about, like, sports instead of crimes?”

“No,” Sam told him, setting the remains of his hamburger onto Henry’s plate. “Sports are stupid, and so are both of you. You need to get better at this.”

“ _I_ don’t need to get better at kidnapping people,” Derek insisted. “I’m normal. I just want to go home and do my homework.” And get more gum.

“Nerd,” Todd said, kicking Derek again.

“Least I’m not failing all my classes.”

“Whatever, I’ll just get someone to do my work for me.”

“That’s why you suck at this,” Derek accused. “Because you’re lazy.”

“Hey!”

“He’s right,” Henry said, shrugging.

“I…”

“You didn’t check the trunk and left me a flashlight and a box cutter,” Derek said, ticking a finger. “You didn’t gag me. You didn’t tie me up properly even though there was rope there. What even was that, a blanket you tied around my arms?”

“It was…” Todd blushed. “Whatever. Sam and Henry told me to go, so I tossed whatever was on my bed into my bag, okay?”

Derek narrowed his eyes, leaning away from Todd. “That wasn’t a bedsheet you tied me up with.”

“Nah, it was my, um…”

Sam started to laugh. “Todd was having a nice self-pleasure session when Henry went to get him.”

Derek glared, then looked down at his wrists. “That was your cumrag? Ew, Todd!”

Now he wanted to go wash his hands.

“ _You’re_ my cumrag,” Todd retorted, totally red. “That was my backup.”

Derek smacked him. “Gross. You’re gross. There was _rope in the car_ , you asshole. And didn’t anyone ever teach you how to tie a knot?”

“What, you think I was a fucking boy scout?”

“I…”

“How’s everything going over here?” Derek looked up as the waitress came to the table.

“Just fine,” Henry said. “We’re almost done.”

“Excellent,” the lady said, smiling a retail smile at them. Behind her, Derek saw a guy getting up from his table, headed for the bathroom. He took a packet of gum out of his pocket as he went, popping some into his mouth. “Would you like the desert menu?”

“Fine,” Sam told her, leaning forward. “Go away.”

“Sam, don’t be rude. Sorry about him.”

The waitress kept her smile in place. “No worries. I’ll be right back with that menu.”

She fled, and Henry gave Sam a light shove. “Stop terrorizing waitresses.”

“No. Todd, you’re not allowed to kidnap anyone else for real until you’re halfway decent at it.”

“It’s not my fault that there’s so much to remember!” Todd said, waving the hand that Derek had cut and wincing. “I’m doing my best.”

“It’s not that hard,” Derek muttered. It also wasn’t that hard to just be a normal person, but apparently they weren’t doing that.

“Yeah, like you’d know, dumbass. You can’t even tie your own shoes.”

Derek looked at him. He really didn’t like Todd much. He held out his hand to Henry. “Can I have the car keys? And your taser?”

Henry gave him a look. But he handed them over, the keys over the table and the taser under. “Why?”

“Because I want to go to the bathroom and wash my hands and the way my life works, someone will try to kidnap me in there too.”

Sam chuckled. “See, he took his first lesson to heart. Never to anywhere unarmed.” Henry, meanwhile, was still watching Derek carefully.

Derek got up, sticking the taser and the keys in his pockets, and heading for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back. Don’t steal my fries.”

He didn’t like the fries, they were too salty.

Derek left the crazies at the table, heading for the bathroom. He wished he could know normal people, and have a normal life. How hard was it not to murder and rape your way through life? How hard was it not to be a psychopath?

Hard, if those three were any indication. Derek went into the bathroom, used the urinal. The guy from before was just finishing up, and when Derek finished, when went over and used the sink beside him, taking a breath. “Um…mister…”

“What’s up, kid?” he asked, chewing his gum.

“Can you…” Derek made his voice as quiet as possible. “I need help,” he whispered.

“Kid, I’m not…”

“Those people I’m with,” he said, sounding scared. “They’re not my family, they’re not my friends. They kidnapped me. I need to get away, but…” he even managed to summon some tears.

“Holy fuck,” the guy whispered, pulling out his phone. He typed in his passcode, swiped out of the text conversation he’d been having with someone, and started to dial.

“No!” Derek said, putting a hand on his arm and shaking his head. “No, please. They’re part of the mob. They have friends in the police. I don’t…I don’t know what they’d do if someone…”

“Jesus Christ,” the guy muttered, running a hand through his hair. “What the fuck…”

“Just…” Derek swallowed. “Can you get me out of here? Can…can you just meet me in the parking lot? I can sneak through the kitchen and just…please…”

The guy looked worried, but the tears had him. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait for you out front, okay?”

“Thank you,” Derek whispered, and he scurried out of the bathroom, smiling to himself. He ducked low behind the salad bar, waited until nobody was looking, and darted through the kitchen, managing to get out the back door without being seen.

Out there, he walked around the outside of the restaurant, coming to the parking lot. The guy was just coming out the front entrance now, the only exterior camera watching him leave. Derek hurried over, stopped in front of the dark blue car that he and the others had arrived in. “Thank you so much,” he said to the guy when he approached. “I’m so grateful, mister…”

“Don’t even worry about it, kid, it’s what anyone would do. My car’s over…” Derek jabbed him with the taser, clicking the trunk button on the key fob in his other hand. As the guy double over, Derek caught him, pushing him towards the car. He was heavy, but the trunk popped open and Derek managed to get him inside, pushing his arms and legs.

Derek sighed, dropping the taser and looking around. Nobody was out here yet and they were out of the range of the camera. He reached over the guy, got the rope, and lashed it around his ankles, pulling them behind him, then his wrists, until the guy was hog-tied and not going anywhere.

Why did he know how to do that? Because Derek had been a fucking boy scout before he’d met Sam and Henry and Todd.

He took the flashlight and the box cutter out of the trunk and tossed them in the backseat, then undid the guy’s belt and looped it around his mouth to use as a gag. Then he rifled through the guy’s pockets, took his gum. It was coffee flavoured, but that was fine.

He also took the guy’s car keys and phone, unlocking it and looking through the conversation he’d been texting someone. His girlfriend or wife, looked like. Once he had a good sense of how the guy texted, he sent a message about how his phone was dying but his boss had called him back to work for a few minutes, but that he’d be home probably around midnight.

Then Derek turned off the phone, dropped it in the storm drain, and clicked the car keys, looking over at the red Toyota that blinked its lights at him. He pulled out his own phone, and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he wanted. “What?” a gruff voice asked.

“It’s Derek,” he said, sounding nervous again. “Um. Henry asked me to call you and come pick up a red Toyota.” He gave the address, left the car unlocked with the keys on the driver’s seat, and locked Henry’s car before looking around.

There was apparently a Pokemon nearby, so Derek went to catch it before sneaking back in through the kitchen, then rejoining the rest of them at the table.

“You were gone fucking forever,” Todd told him, as Derek handed the keys and the taser back to Henry. “Was starting to think you actually did get kidnapped again. Fucking loser.”

Derek smiled. “I caught something cool!” He showed Todd.

Todd snorted. “Nobody even plays that game anymore.”

Derek looked back at his plate, which was empty. He reached into his pocket, took out his packet of gum, and put a piece in his mouth. “Are we getting desert?” he asked. “I want ice cream.”

Sam started quizzing Todd on all the best ways to hide poison in food, and Derek just ignored them, playing with his phone and chewing his gum. They could be a bunch of crazy psychos all they wanted. He was going to be a normal kid no matter what they tried to do.


	121. Wally, Belly Rubs, Hand Job (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wally has only appeared in drabbles so far, but he'll be appearing in the main story someday. He's still fair game for prompts, though. :)

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174552601078/i-got-a-request-via-private-message-from) for some Wally belly rubs and hand jobs by Gamerkun0525. 

\---

“What do you like?” Rolf asked, as they broke apart from the long kiss they’d been sharing.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Wally said, blushing. If his tail was out, it’d be wagging. But Rolf thought he was human and Wally wanted to get laid, not have to give a lesson in why racism was bad. “I like whatever. I like you.”

Well, that made him sound a bit slutty, but whatever. It wasn’t untrue.

Rolf smiled, touching Wally’s hair. He was a pretty guy, with eyes that suggested depth and a chin that made him look rakish. “I like you too, Wally. So let’s do something you like, come on. Don’t be shy.”

Since Wally was sitting naked in this guy’s lap and they’d only met yesterday, he wasn’t sure an accusation of shyness really held water, but Wally smiled, shifting. “Well…” A blush stained his face.

“Well…?” Rolf teased, poking Wally.

Wally shouldn’t ask this. But…well. He wanted to. “Could you rub my belly?”

Rolf blinked, obviously not having expected that, and Wally had a moment where he feared he’d ruined it. But then Rolf smiled again. “Sure. Lay across my lap.”

Excited, Wally did as he was told, careful not to crush Rolf’s boner. His own erection rested against his tummy as he lay back, trying to keep still. He knew that Rolf had been expecting him to ask for a blowjob or something normal, but…Wally liked getting his belly rubbed. And hardly anyone did it for him, even other wolves when he got with them. So he’s seen his chance and taken it.

Rolf’s hand rested on Wally’s belly. “Just like a dog?” he asked.

Wally nodded, still flushed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Just like a dog.”

Rolf grinned, and he started rubbing Wally’s belly, moving his hand in circles. Wally made an involuntary noise and closed his eyes, liking that.

Rolf kept rubbing, going harder, slower, moving back and forth and in circles and all over, sparing no part of Wally’s belly from his attention. Wally loved it, making little noises even without his dick being touched, his boner leaking, his leg twitching a bit. He was panting, ready to roll over and just do whatever the nice person rubbing his belly wanted and…

When Rolf’s other hand wrapped around Wally’s dick, Wally actually yelped, not in a bad way. If there was anything that could have made this nicer, could have made this better, it was this, and now he was getting a belly rub and a handjob and Wally was in whatever passed for an afterlife anymore as he just let Rolf’s hand do their thing. He had such nice hands, and his lap was so comfortable, and he was so nice and…

“Fuck…” Wally whinged, arching his back as he started to cum, Rolf’s hands never leaving him as he patted Wally through his orgasm. Wally coated his belly and chest with cum before relaxing, melting a little into Rolf’s lap. “Hm…” he said, content. “That was so nice.”

“I’ll bet,” Rolf said, removing his hands. He chuckled. “You look so happy.”

“Yeah.”

“Your tail’s even wagging.”

Wally giggled. “Yeah. It does that when I…”

Wally’s eyes opened, and he looked down. His tail was both present and wagging. “Aw, shit,” he said, worry curling up into him. And he’d been having so much fun. “I can explain, it’s…”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory,” Rolf laughed, giving it a tug. “Doesn’t bother me.”

Wally warmed, smiling up at Rolf. “Yeah?”

“Not at all.” Rolf’s boner was hot against Wally’s thigh, and he grinned down at Wally, obviously eager. “I’ve always liked dogs.”


	122. Joey/Travis, Sex Marathon (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which our horny dragon boy and his horny boyfriend go at it for a long time.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174552735783/joey-and-travis-with-81-sex-marathon): "Joey and Travis with 81. Sex Marathon!" by Gamerkun0525, based on [ this prompt list](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/170126981038/101-kinks-send-me-a-number-and-a-ship-and-ill).

\---

Travis came as the sun hit its zenith, and Joey held him close, tail wrapped firmly around Travis’s waist as he filled Joey up, cum leaking out of his hole and onto the grass below.

They’d woken up just after sunrise to find a weird patch of flowers around their tent, and about five minutes after sniffing one, Travis had buried his dick inside Joey and not taken it out since.

Not that Joey was complaining. He hadn’t sniffed any flowers, but he didn’t need to in order to keep up with a super-horny human. If anything, Travis was finally going at the same pace that Joey could most of the time.

Sure enough, Travis didn’t even stop moving his hips, flushed face looking down at Joey with nothing but adoration and lust. “I love you,” he said, still pounding Joey mercilessly.

“I love you too,” Joey said, dick rubbing against Travis’s belly as Travis moved. He did kind of wonder how long the effect of that flower was going to last on Travis, not because he didn’t want to lay here and fuck all day but mostly because Travis was only human and his body could only take so much.

But he seemed to be holding up okay so far and his stamina wasn’t diminishing at all. He pounded Joey as if he hadn’t been at it for hours, and when he hit the right spot inside Joey, Joey came with a loud shout, which set Travis into a mini-frenzy, culminating him in cumming inside Joey again with a sigh. And then continuing to move in and out.

This clearly wasn’t satisfying him, Joey thought. Sure, Travis was having lots of orgasms, but his sex drive wasn’t shrinking at all. Maybe he needed something other than this. Maybe he needed to bottom.

Yes, that sounded like a good idea to Joey. Worth a try, at least. Besides, Travis had had enough turns in a row that it was definitely Joey’s turn to top now.

So Joey waited until Travis came again with a whinge, and in the two seconds where he was recovering, Joey struck. He used his tail to pull on Travis, then surged up and flipped them over, so that Travis was on his back. Joey smiled down at him. “My turn to top for a while.”

Travis nodded, grinning as Joey pulled out and pressed his fingers inside Travis to stretch him. Travis needed a lot of stretching to accommodate Joey without getting hurt, but it was worth it. “Okay,” Travis panted. “Yeah. Fuck me.”

“I will,” Joey promised, inserting his third finger quickly. He got why Travis needed preparation, he did. But he wasn’t very good at being patient. He used some of the cum on both of them to lube up his other hand and worked a finger from that side in there too, liking the way Travis moaned.

He knew what to touch inside him, and Joey looked for that, stretching Travis as much as he could while he hunted, and then he poked it, once, twice, a steady beat against that spot while Travis writhed on the ground, twitching all over.

Travis came when Joey inserted his fifth finger, laying his back flat as he did. Joey took the relaxation as his chance to put a sixth finger inside, making three on each hand.

Joey needed a lot of room up there if he didn’t want to hurt his human.

“Come on…” Travis said, bucking his hips. “Give it to me…”

Joey grinned, pulled his fingers out, and crawled up. “Okay,” he said, lining up, pressing in. He tired to go slowly, but he wasn’t very good at being patient and in what he thought was a lot of time, Joey had pressed his way into Travis’s hole, Travis moaning and writhing underneath him.

Travis came again before Joey got all the way in, clenching around Joey. Joey wanted so bad to shove inside in response, but he waited until Travis was done shooting, until he was relaxed again, then drove the rest of the way in.

Travis was red, panting, pupils blown, looking up at Joey. He was so perfect. Joey was so lucky. No other dragon had such a beautiful hoard. Nobody.

And Joey started fucking Travis, getting a good speed that was near what Travis had been doing before, but intending to go faster once Travis was more used to him. They’d done this a good amount, but it always took Travis a while to warm up to Joey being fully inside him, no matter how much he liked it.

Joey didn’t know how much time passed before he came, but he did know that Travis came first, crying out again, and that sound, that face, that feeling made Joey shoot too, growling as he filled Travis for the first of many times.

Joey smiled when he was done, still ready to go. Travis was too, so Joey didn’t wait. He just fucked his human faster, nailing the spot inside him and nipping at his collarbone as he did. “I love you,” he whispered in between bites.

“I love you too…” Travis moaned as Joey ravished him.

It was after sunset before they stopped, and then only because they fell asleep, hard, sticky, warm, content and intertwined, just the way it should be.


	123. Henry/Sam, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism (nsfw, sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating getting [100 followers](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083) on Tumblr, I decided to solicit requests for drabbles based on the big gay sleepover that I did at the end of Magic Meat March (which is chapter 103 of this collection). So this is the first of those prompt fills. 
> 
> One note that I want to make is that no matter the characters in the prompt, I'm writing everything at the sleepover as though it's consensual, unless I'm directly prompted for noncon. So there might be some dubious stuff now and then (this is a Sam and Henry drabble, after all), but no rape unless stated otherwise.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174618268348/congrats-on-100-followers-would-you-do-sam-and): "congrats on 100 followers!! would you do sam and henry sneaking away to have some fun? maybe with some exhibitionism and dirty talk," by an anon. 

\---

“Come on,” Henry said, taking Sam’s hand.

Sam scowled, but went with him. Henry smiled. “Where are we going?” Sam demanded.

“Somewhere else,” Henry told him. He could see Sam getting twitchy and thinking about saying or doing something unpleasant, and Henry wanted Sam to play nice tonight. Which meant keeping an eye on him and giving him a hand if he got too stressed out.

Sam went with him, letting Henry drag him out of the main room and into the hallway. “What do you want?”

“You having fun?” Henry asked, looking around. He saw what he was looking for just down the hall, and headed there.

“I suppose it’s not the most terrible thing you’ve ever made me do,” Sam admitted. “But no. It’s a waste of my time and people keep trying to be my friend. I’d be having fun if you’d let me bring my knife.”

Henry wouldn’t be, though. “Yes, but the idea here was to maximize fun for as many people as possible, and you’re the only one who likes it when you start using a knife.”

“You like it sometimes,” Sam accused, oddly red in the face.

Henry smiled, pulling Sam up to another door. “Sometimes,” he said. “But not today. Come in here.”

“What’s in here?”

“A handjob,” Henry said, opening the door. “To calm you down.”

On the door was a printed sign that read “The Bone Zone,” with a bunch of crude pictures doodled around it. It hadn’t been there when they’d gotten here, but at some point in the night someone had decided that there needed to be a designated space for relieving tension. It was a good idea with this many hormonal guys all in one room.

Not that the room had stopped a few people from relieving tension in the main room, but that was fine too.

“Is this that room?” Sam asked as Henry pulled him in. “The one with the stupid name?”

“Oh, you heard about it? That’s good, I don’t have to explain,” Henry said, pulling Sam into an armchair. Aside from them, there were two other guys in the room, in a sixty-nine on the couch. The rule for the room was basically anything goes, so be prepared for anything to go, which worked for Henry just fine.

Henry sat down, pulled Sam into his lap, and pulled the front of Sam’s boxers down, wrapping a hand around his dick. “There’s someone in here,” Sam muttered.

“Do you care?”

“No,” Sam shifted, spreading his legs a bit. “Just don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“I wouldn’t hide something from you,” Henry told Sam, and he started stroking him, smirking when Sam leaned back into him, uncaring that he was in Henry’s lap like a kid. Henry put his other arm around Sam’s middle to keep him in place, then started going faster. “You like it, though, don’t you? That someone else can see us doing this?” They couldn’t, actually, neither of them had even looked up from the dick they were sucking.

“People…” Sam panted. “See us…all the time.”

“Not like this. Not people who don’t know you,” Henry whispered in Sam’s ear. “Not people who aren’t afraid of you. These guys are just looking at you thinking, man, look how cute that guy getting that handy is. He sure is into it. I wonder what else he’s into.”

“Shut up…”

“Bet he sucks a mean cock,” Henry muttered into Sam’s ear, going faster. He snaked his other hand down and freed his own cock, adjusting it so that it came up between Sam’s legs, brushing Sam’s. “Look how much he likes being held by that big guy. Bet he loves it up his ass. I can just picture him, bouncing up and down on it, making the cutest little faces.”

“I said be quiet,” Sam hissed.

“Jerk me off,” Henry told him, and smiled when Sam reached down and did, Henry sped up, bouncing Sam on his lap as he stroked him. On the couch, the two guys had both finished and were actually watching now, in a lazy sort of way like you did with a TV show that was just kind of on in the background. Henry smiled at them. “They’re watching you,” he whispered in Sam’s ear.

Sam whinged, leaking precum everywhere. Henry kissed his ear. “Put on a good show for them?”

Sam came, arching his back, squeezing Henry painfully as he shot up his bare chest, four clean shots that did a good job of making a mess all over him. Henry smirked, brought his hand down to cover Sam’s on his dick, and stroked himself to completion while Sam recovered, happily cumming on Sam’s dick and belly.

“Feel better?” Henry asked, nuzzling Sam’s cheek. “Less stressed?”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, sighing. “I could do this for a few more hours, I guess. Clean me up.”

Henry kissed Sam’s cheek. “I don’t have anything to clean you with.”

“Find something.”

“Okay,” Henry said, getting up, setting down Sam on the chair, and stretching. He tucked himself back into his underwear, and headed for the door. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Don’t take forever.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Henry wouldn’t. He didn’t want to leave Sam alone with anyone for too long unsupervised. But a little while was fine. He winked at the two guys on the couch. “Keep an eye on him for me, guys?”

And Henry left Sam in there, going off in search of something to clean Sam up with. He wondered if the mess would be worse when he got back.


	124. Isaac/Sam, Transaction (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Isaac wants something and is willing to pay for it.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174649874633/hows-about-some-isaac-and-sam-for-the-sleepover): "How’s about some Isaac and Sam for the sleepover?" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

Sam was bored as hell. He didn’t understand the point of sleepovers. Especially since nobody was sleeping. All that was happening was a lot of talking and tomfoolery, and Sam didn’t like either of those things, especially with a bunch of horny idiots who he didn’t even know.

And Henry kept wandering away and leaving him alone, with nobody to talk to but the horny idiots. Like the one who’d just walked up to him. Sam didn’t know who it was yet, but he was a horny idiot, to be sure.

“Hey,” a voice said, when the person stopped in front of Sam. “You look lonely.”

“I’m not,” Sam told him.

“All right,” the boy said. “I’m Isaac.”

“Sam,” Sam said, trying not to sigh.

“Cool.” Isaac was quiet for a second, still standing there. “So now that we’re friends, can I ask you a favour?”

“We’re not friends.”

“Sure we are. Can I have your underwear?”

“What…” Sam scowled.

“I’ll give you the ones I’m wearing in exchange,” Isaac promised. “They’re clean, I’ve only had them on for like fifteen minutes. I just your pair, it’s kind of a long story but please trade with me? I’ll do you a favour if you do.”

Sam snorted. “Give me a blowjob and I’ll think about it,” he said, mostly to make Isaac go away.

“Okay,” Isaac said, and there was a sound as he got down on his knees, his hands on Sam’s legs.

“What…”

Isaac pulled down the front of Sam’s underwear, pulling out his cock and licking it without hesitation. “Don’t worry,” he said, as Sam got hard. “I’m good at this.”

“Whatever,” Sam muttered, figuring he may as well go along with it. He’d said it as a joke, but Sam could use a blowjob, why not?

So Isaac took Sam into his mouth, sucking nicely. Sam leaned back a little, surprised at how good it was, but then Isaac had said he was good at it. Isaac slid Sam’s underwear further down as he sucked more, taking more of Sam into his mouth and going harder. The noise from the room seemed to dim.

Sam just lay there and enjoyed it, letting Isaac do all the work, barely even noticing as his underwear came all the way down, then off, taken completely away. Sam just spread his legs farther apart once they were, and Isaac sucked him down to the root, his throat contracting around Sam’s cock.

Sam didn’t bother to warn Isaac before he came, shooting right down his waiting throat. When the fire that had spread through him had faded, Isaac pulled off Sam’s cock, kissing the head. “Thanks,” he said, standing. A second later, fabric was put on his groin. “There you go. Transaction complete.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam muttered, picking up the underwear he’d been given. They felt a bit big.

Isaac kissed Sam’s cheek. “Sorry, I have to go. But I’ll be free again in a few minutes, so if you want another one, or, you know, something else, just give me a shout. See you.”

And Isaac was gone, leaving Sam there with someone else’s underwear to put on.

He considered not putting them on, but it wasn’t worth it to deal with Henry if he didn’t, so Sam slid them up his legs, sighing. He felt a lot better.

A moment later, Henry returned, sitting beside him and putting a drink in Sam’s hand. “Sorry I took so…those aren’t yours. Where’d you get new underwear?”

Sam smirked, took a drink. “You know, I actually am having fun.”


	125. Isaac/Jay, An Arrangement (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following off of Isaac's scene in the sleepover chapter.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174713324803/congrats-on-the-100-followers-i-had-to-go-back): "Can we get more or a continuation of that interaction between Jay and Isaac?" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“Boom,” Isaac said as he narrowly crossed the finish line in first place. It had been touch and go there for a bit, but that put him solidly at the front of the tournament ranking, which meant he’d won. “Looks like you lose,” he said to Jay, as the results that proclaimed that started lining up on the screen.

“Looks like I do,” Jay agreed, shrugging. “Guess I’m not getting my underwear back.”

“Now, when did I say that?” Isaac asked, and he climbed into Jay’s lap, face to face with him. He made sure their hips were pressed firmly together. “I just said we’d have to make an…alternate arrangement.”

“And what alternate arrangement,” Jay said, flushed, “is that?”

Isaac smiled, and started to grind his hips against Jay’s, noting how quickly he got hard in those underwear. “Maybe just…hold still for a bit?”

Jay swallowed, watching Isaac move. “I can do that,” he panted.

Isaac grinned and kept going, happily grinding himself against Jay. He wanted to take his time, but other people might want to play the game, so he went a little more quickly than he’d have liked, hands on Jay’s shoulders as he ground their dicks together through the fabric. Jay grabbed his ass, kneading it as Isaac worked, watching, wide-eyed. Probably nobody had ever done this to him before.

It was cute.

A wet spot started to form at the front of the underwear Jay had on, and Isaac grinned at him, slid his hand down Jay’s chest, and tugged at his waistband, and freed his erection, letting it slap against his belly. Then Isaac ground against Jay’s exposed dick mercilessly, making him writhe and moan.

Jay started thrusting back, which was what Isaac had hoped for, and the two of them got a good rhythm going, back and forth, and back and forth. Isaac was almost pained inside his underwear, but he kept them on, because taking them off would defeat the purpose.

Unsurprisingly, Jay came first, and Isaac humped him continuously as he shot onto his belly, and then a bit after, though Jay started to look uncomfortable so Isaac stopped and finished with his own hand, staining the inside of the underwear with a happy sigh.

Pleased with himself, Isaac climbed off of Jay, kissing him on the cheek, and then slid the underwear off, handing them over. “Here you go.”

Jay looked at them, a little dazed. “Not sure I want them now.”

“Too bad, you lost.”

Jay’s face split into a dopey smile. “Doesn’t feel that way. What would have happened if I’d won?”

Now it was Isaac’s turn to grin, and he picked up a controller and offered it to Jay. “You want to go double or nothing and find out?”


	126. Stowaway, Team casts, Trivia Game (sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's sfw! Just some shenanigans from two currently sad stories.

[Prompt](): "And more Team and Stowaway games or just more of them having fun together? Mostly because I miss Mick, Wes, and Nate. (But you gotta have Cal and Pax too ofc.) Oh, and Sully too if it works. :)" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083) (this is a continuation of the last prompt but I broke it into two here). 

\---

“In what year,” Nate read off a card, “was the _Mall..Malleus Malificarum_ first published?”

“Fourteen eighty-seven,” Pax said immediately, moving his piece on the gameboard without waiting to see if he was right. He was right. “And malificarum is pronounced with an ‘ah,’ not an ‘ay.’”

“Why do you know that? Did you look at the card?” Sully demanded, looking at Pax as if trying to figure out how he was cheating.

Pax shrugged. “It’s basic Latin.”

“I meant the answer.”

“Oh, well that’s basic European history. Your turn.”

Still eyeing Pax, Sully rolled a coloured die, and it came up green. “You said you were bad at this,” he accused.

Nate sighed. Pax just smiled. “That’s not what I said. I said trivia games were hard.”

Sitting sort of across Wes and Mick’s laps, Cal laughed. “Not for you, apparently.”

“Pax knows everything,” Nate said, patting Pax on the arm fondly. “As long as it’s literally useless to know.”

“Hey,” Pax said, picking up a card for Sully and looking at the green-coded question. “There might someday be a life or death situation which is decided based on knowing who won the nineteen sixty-six World Series in a four-game sweep?”

“What…” Sully sighed. “I’m Canadian, do you think I know about fucking baseball? Get Travis over here and ask him.”

“Calling in backup is cheating,” Mick reminded Sully. “Do you know it or not?”

“No, fuck. Like. The Red Socks?”

Pax could hear the incorrect spelling in Sully’s tone.

“It was the Baltimore Orioles,” Pax said, not looking at the answer as he stuck the card in the discard pile. “And if that was a survival situation, you’d have been eaten by baseball-hungry wolverines.”

“Those aren’t a thing.”

“You don’t know that,” Pax said, defensive as Wes rolled a red.

Wes got his right, and so did Cal, though Mick missed his literature question and then looked embarrassed about it. “Who’s the only Christian Saint to also be named antipope?” Mick asked Nate.

“Fuck me if I know,” Nate said, looking at Pax for the answer.

“Hippolytus of Rome,” Pax muttered.

“What he said.”

Mick shrugged and discarded the card while Nate moved up.

“Wait, why are you allowed to call in backup?” Sully demanded.

“He didn’t,” Pax said, snuggling closer to Nate. “It’s not his fault I happened to say the answer out loud and he happened to hear it. He didn’t ask me to do that.”

Sully narrowed his eyes. “Are you a faery? Not in the like, shitty homophobic way. Are you literally a faery trying to make deals with humankind and twisting every word in every sentence to mean something other than what it means?”

“You know,” Cal said, shifting closer to Mick. “That’s a legit question.”

Pax widened his eyes so as to appear innocent and puppy-like. It always worked on Nate. “Of course not. I’m just a delivery boy.”

“And a hustler,” Cal muttered. Wes nodded.

“He kind of is,” Nate said, shrugging. “I tried to warn you.”

“You didn’t really,” Wes accused, arm around Cal.

“I said playing a trivia game was a bad idea.”

“You made it sound like it was because you and your boyfriend would lose, Seaworthy.”

Nate grinned. “Not my fault if you listened to my tone instead of the words I was saying, Sharpe.”

“They’re in it together,” Mick muttered. “Two-person con.”

Pax smiled fondly at Nate. He really was getting better at this. “Don’t be silly. It’s not a con or a hustle. Nobody bet any money. Trust me, if there’d been money on the table the game would already be over. Does anyone want to bet money, by the way?”

“No,” Cal said, grinning. He at least seemed to think it was funny. “I’m actually really impressed. You hardcore made it sound like you didn’t want to play the game, but all you really said was that you didn’t think it would be that fun, and that it was probably hard and we might not like it. You never said you wouldn’t. And you targeted our weak link here,” he said, nodding at Sully.

“Hey, I’m not the weak link!”

“Sure you are. At least when it comes to competition. All Pax had to do was make it sound like he was sure to lose and you were all over this game. Especially after he insulted you at the end of the last game for losing.”

“You are a bit predictable,” Pax said, watching Cal. “And you’re too perceptive. I really prefer to operate in the shadows.”

“Too bad, you’re out in the light now.”

“Oh well.” Pax sighed, nudged Nate to read his card as he rolled a yellow. He’d have to be sneakier around Cal from now on. “I’m still going to destroy all of you. Read me my clue, Nate.”


	127. Sully/Cal/Wes/Mick, Double Penetration (Sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin, this one.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174774995593/i-choose-to-believe-that-at-some-point-during-the): "I choose to believe that at some point during the sleepover, there was double anal penetration," by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

Sully wasn’t sure how this had happened, but he wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t even wanted to fuck Cal, but Cal had wanted it so obviously that Sully had figured he may as well do the good citizen thing and stick it in.

Halfway through giving Cal the sex of his life—Sully didn’t even need to ask to know that Mick and Wes had never done it right—suddenly there’d been a lubed-up finger prodding around his asshole, and then Sully had been being fingered and he went from being a topping to a sandwich filling as Wes started fucking him, which, Sully had known Wes had a big dick, but yikes.

Still, Sully had to revise his opinion of Wes’s skills because it was actually pretty good, because Sully found himself cumming inside Cal more quickly than he’d meant to. Oh well, he figured. It was the first of many, there was no way Cal wasn’t coming back for more at every opportunity.

Wes just kept going, not letting Sully out of Cal, going until he’d finished inside Sully with a kiss on his neck. Cal came too during that, so Sully couldn’t begrudge the extra couple of minutes.

Sully thought that was the end of it because apparently he couldn’t fucking count to three, and as he pulled out of Cal, suddenly there was Mick, lined up behind him, hands on Sully’s hips.

He wasn’t quite as big as Wes so he slid inside fairly easily, and Sully stayed there on his hands and knees, letting Mick have his way because he was in a good mood and well, Mick was good at it too.

The real surprise came after Mick had cum inside him, when Sully may or may not have embarrassingly continued to rut against Cal, who was still underneath him. Mick lifted him up, rolled over and put them both on their backs, Sully laying on Mick, and started to fuck him again.

That was when Cal climbed up and got between their legs, taking Sully in his hand and jerking him off, licking his fingers. Somehow, somehow though, Sully didn’t see it coming, and was totally caught off-guard when Cal started to slide one of those very same fingers up Sully’s ass alongside Mick, stretching him farther than Wes had done.

“Tell me if I should stop,” Cal warned him, and Sully, in his wisdom, just nodded and didn’t tell him to stop. He didn’t hate where this was going in theory. In theory.

So Cal stuck a second finger in, and then eventually a third, and it was only because Sully couldn’t really talk that he didn’t make a snarky comment about how Cal’s dick really wasn’t that big.

But then Cal started to stick his dick in alongside Mick’s, and Sully felt lied to because it really was that big, or at least it felt like it as it stretched Sully so far he felt he might break in two…but he didn’t. He just felt full, and warm, and surrounded and loved and happy and…

Sully came with a shout as Cal kissed his chest, and Mick filled him again with a groan. Cal wasn’t done and kept pumping away, unaware that the rest of them were finishing up.

Or not, since, in a feat of strength, Mick slid out of him, leaving Cal to fill a hole he was too small to fill, and managed to pass both Sully and Cal off to Wes, who slid back inside, stretching Sully farther.

“They’re stretching you…” Cal whispered as he fucked Sully alongside Wes. “So they can do you…together…”

Obviously, Sully thought. Did Cal think he was stupid? “They…do that to you too?”

“No…not yet,” Cal groaned, and he started to cum.

Sully smirked, trying to breathe and stay conscious. Yet another opportunity to show Cal up. As Cal pulled out and Mick got up there, Sully just braced himself. “Bring it on,” he said.

They did, and Sully loved it.


	128. Everyone, Sleepover-cum-Orgy (Sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The logical outcome.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174775137363/exhibitionism-that-turns-into-a): "Exhibitionism that turns into a threesome/foursome/moresome as more and more onlookers become participants, culminating in a massive orgy," by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

Afterwards, nobody was quite sure how it started. It might just have been the tension obvious in the air, the natural consequence of having that many horny and hormonal guys share the same space with most of their clothes off, making it inevitable that teasing and horseplay would get more and more serious. It might have been because the Bone Zone overflowed into the main room and monogamy was hard to enforce when that many people were going at it everywhere. It might have been the world’s horniest case of monkey see, monkey do.

Or it might just have been that all good sleepovers eventually became an orgy, that was just the way the world worked.

It might have started with Gavin and Owen, the former requesting for Edwin to come help while he fucked the latter. Gavin got Edwin to blow Owen, and while Edwin’s butt was in the air Ty took that as invitation, then offered Edwin to Leo, and meanwhile Gavin explained to all of them that Owen’s stamina was limitless, and offered a prize for whoever could suck Owen completely dry, attracting a whole hoard of competitive boys to see who could win, and of course they had to entertain themselves with each other while they waited for their turn on Owen.

Of course, that itself had been prefigured by Gavin and James having a moment where they decided they needed to determine which of them had the superior cousin and done a swap, which had ended up a tie.

Or it might have been with Cal and his friends, who were entangled in one another, somehow including Joey and Travis, and the critical mass of copulating boy started to attract other comers, spreading out across the room.

It might even have been Joey and Travis themselves who attracted the crowd, as Joey put on a little show of penetrating Travis all the way down to his base, impressing the collecting audience and eventually prompting Louis to offer dragon rides for anyone who wanted to see how much they could take.

It might have been the dick measuring contest, which encouraged the boys to get up close and personal and touch one another, and of course competitive boys needed to have a prize when they won, and good sports had to pay the penalty for losing.

Or maybe it was Henry, who flipped Sam over and fucked him right in the middle of the room, before casually taking a Sharpie and writing “for rent” on Sam’s ass, walking away with a smirk on his face. It might have appeared less than consenting to some people if Sam hadn’t stayed laying there, clearly impatient and waiting.

Hard as it might be to believe it might even have been Pax, who accidentally talked himself into a masturbation contest with five other guys over a game of ping-pong that, like most things in Pax’s life, spiraled so far out of control.

Or it might have been Isaac single-handedly, taking the room’s temperature before taking off his underwear and waiting patiently for thirty entire seconds before Nicholas got the hint, which he somehow managed to parley into a full-on gangbang within fifteen minutes. Those who knew him well insisted that this was normal for him, they swore he was some kind of sex wizard.

No matter who started it or why, it happened, and soon every guy at the sleepover was naked and satisfying both himself and someone else. There were unspoken rules. Consent was implied but no meant no, the other guy had to have an orgasm too, and every relationship was open until night’s end, with no willing partner or partners off limits.

It was later claimed that no hole was left unfilled, and whether or not that was specifically true, everyone agreed that nobody went to sleep unsatisfied and exhausted.

And when they woke up, a forest of morning wood rising, nobody had to ask to get a helping hand.


	129. Isaac/Everyone, Gangbang (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What else is Isaac going to do at a sleepover?

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174902453408/id-like-to-see-isaac-getting-gangbanged-by-his): "I’d like to see Isaac getting gangbanged by his boyfriends. And his friends. And a few boys he doesn’t actually know just yet, but would definitely like to get to know better," by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

Nicholas was the first one. Isaac had lain there on the floor with his legs spread for like, thirty entire seconds before he’d finally gotten the hint and come over to ask if Isaac wanted to have sex. He’d asked it exactly like that too. He was kind of precious like that.

He was even more precious when he was thrusting frantically in and out of Isaac while a crowd gathered to watch, getting harder and faster the more people came to cheer him on, the audience encouraging him to put on his best performance yet and actually consistently find Isaac’s prostate.

When he inevitably exploded, Nicholas looked down at Isaac, panting, flushed, sexy, and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Thank you,” Isaac said, grinning up at him.

Peter followed Nicholas, muttering in Isaac’s ear that he’d organized the crowd into a line for Isaac, but that he’d taken the liberty of putting himself at the head of the line because that was what boyfriend privileges got him.

Which, fair enough, and Isaac wrapped his legs around Peter and took him inside, kissing Peter until he came.

Jacob came after Peter, also citing boyfriend privileges, though in his words “I just want all the schlubs to see what they’re up against before they get going, maybe scare a few of them away.” Isaac was pretty sure he didn’t scare anyone away and if anything attracted more people. Jacob wasn’t as into having the audience as Nicholas had been, but it showed in his every move how nervous he was and it was cute as hell.

A few of his other friends came after that, used to Isaac and not bothered by there being a sudden gangbang going on over here. Thomas asked if he could cum on Isaac’s belly instead of inside him, and Spencer came as soon as he put it inside, so Isaac let him butt back near the front of the line so he’d have a little time to recharge before going again.

Before he got to go again though, were Gavin and Owen together. “Thanks for providing such a necessary service,” Gavin said, as he slid inside Isaac.

“I just want to do my part,” Isaac told him, laying back and letting their host do his thing. He was really good at it, but he went fast, and it was clear that what he was actually interested in was watching Owen fuck Isaac.

“You like it?” Gavin asked as he knelt beside Isaac, Owen sliding his girth into Isaac. It was the biggest dick Isaac had taken so far, so he was going slowly, which was thoughtful.

“Y-yeah…” Owen grunted, as he bottomed out inside Isaac with a sigh.

Owen lasted longer than Gavin had, though Gavin goading him on the whole time probably sped up the process a good amount. He and Gavin made out as Owen came inside Isaac, and though they both gave Isaac a thank you kiss, Owen wasn’t out of Isaac for a full minute before he was buried inside Gavin, which was hot if not entirely hygienic.

Spencer went again after that, fucking Isaac gently and slowly, giggling a little as he came. Isaac couldn’t help but kiss him, laughing as well. He asked Spencer how it felt to lose his virginity in front of so many guys.

“Kind of exciting, actually,” Spencer admitted, grinning from ear to ear.

Isaac kissed his cheek. “Always the quiet ones,” he said.

When Spencer reluctantly moved away, Edwin was next, and he asked Isaac how he was doing before sliding inside him, the two of them chatting about video games the whole time. Ty came after him, pleasing Isaac by finally giving him that eyeful of freckle. When the two of them were done, they all made plans to have lunch next week before Edwin ushered Leo over and he and Ty left them alone.

“About time,” Isaac said, wrapping his arms around Leo’s neck and kissing him. “I’ve been waiting to get better acquainted with you ever since that party.”

“The one where you Cinderella’d me?” Leo asked, as he thrust inside Isaac. “Left me with just your boxers to remember you by?”

Isaac laughed. “Sorry about that, long story. Also, not my boxers.”

Leo grinned. “Oops. Well, I’ve been jerking off into them since then.”

Isaac shrugged, pretty sure Turner wouldn’t mind. “Get my number from Peter after, I’ll save you a few sessions with your hand if you need me to.”

After Leo were a few of Edwin’s other friends, whose names Isaac just managed to catch before making them his friends by default. Then came Turner, looking a lot less nervous than Isaac remembered him being last time. “You seem happy,” Isaac said, as Turner did his thing.

“You really helped me out last time,” Turner told him, taking Isaac’s sensitive dick in hand. “I felt bad about this last time, but now I don’t.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Seems like you’re taking every dick at the party, you can take a wristy or two,” Turner said, and he proceeded to work both his dick and Isaac’s, refusing to cum until Isaac had.

After him was Hector with a strap-on, which was a new experience for Isaac but absolutely one he was hoping to repeat someday. “Mystery boy delivers,” Isaac muttered, content, as Hector collapsed beside him.

“Good investment,” Hector said, sleepy now. “You’re cute.”

“You too.”

“Heh.” Hector closed his eyes and had to be coaxed away so that he wasn’t in the way when Matthew, then Kieran, then Franz and Boey came to take their turns.

After them were Sam and Henry, who were both rough enough to shake Isaac back to alertness, and then Marcus and his group of friends, one after the other. “Never thought I’d do something like this,” Hugh said, sweating as he fucked Isaac.

“Hope you don’t regret it?”

“Not at…uhg…all…” Hugh said, cumming.

After him went Aaron after his friend Seth prodded him, then Seth had his turn, and then Jesse followed by Garrett. “I was hoping I’d see you,” Isaac said, feeling the plastic slide into him.

“Jesse convinced me after we watched Hector,” Garrett muttered, red in the face. Isaac kissed his nose and made helped him have a good time.

Then came Simon, egged on by the other younger boys he’d been hanging with, who then all took turns as well, all encouraging each other. They were younger but not so young that Isaac was uncomfortable, and they were having so much fun that he wouldn’t have said no anyway.

Cal followed them, and then the small dicks ended after Sully and Travis had a go each, making way for Mick, then Wes, then Joey, breaking Owen’s size record in turn. “I’m surprised I fit all the way in,” Joey muttered, panting.

“I’m special like that.”

Joey laughed and went at it, cumming a lot all over Isaac’s belly and chest instead of inside him, which was too bad. Right after him though, Louis did Isaac the favour of cumming inside, nearly as much if not more than Joey had. Isaac liked that, he liked being full, he liked all of this. Ron and James went next, in turn, Ron lasting a long time because James wouldn’t let him shoot for a while.

After them came Jay, then a boy Isaac didn’t know. “Hi,” he said, as the boy grinned down at him. “Isaac.”

“Wally.” He was blonde, a little scruffy, and pointy in the nose and ears. “You do this often?”

“As often as I can,” Isaac told him, encouraging him to come closer. “You?”

“Not often enough.”

“Let’s fix that.”

Wally obviously agreed, sticking it in Isaac without hesitation and fucking him for all he was worth. He stuck his tongue out as he went, enthusiastically humping Isaac. It was adorable. “Ah, yeah,” Wally said, as he finished. “We’re going to have to do that again.”

“Hit me up anytime,” Isaac chuckled. He felt all giddy.

“Now?” Wally asked, hopeful.

“There are still guys behind you, Wally,” Isaac said, though Wally was still hard as a rock. “Go get back and line and we’ll talk.”

“Okay, okay.” Wally leaned down and kissed Isaac’s cheek, giving him as sniff before he left, bum wagging as if he had a tail.

Next came quiet Denver, then Nate, who patted his ass before pulling out. “If you ever need a package delivered…”

“I think I just had one.”

Nate grinned, offered Isaac to Pax.

“Last but not least?” Isaac asked, as Pax, looking worried, started to enter him.

“I had to go last,” Pax explained, “because otherwise I’d spoil you for everyone else. It’s been an ongoing problem in my life, and I didn’t want to ruin the nice gangbang you set up for everyone else, including you, because it’s not much of a gangbang if I’m the whole gang, then it’s kind of just a regular bang, or a Pax-bang, if you want to call it something special.”

“I always want to call it something special,” Isaac said, moving his hips a little. “All right, show me what a Pax-bang is like.”

“I don’t think we should stick with that name. I’ll think of something better.”

“Maybe after you’ve had an orgasm?”

“Or four,” Pax agreed. “My stamina is pretty well known.”

Pax lasted the ordinary amount of time, but Isaac didn’t have the heart to tell him that and he came as well as Pax finished, so Isaac kissed him. “That was good. You didn’t need to be nervous.”

“Who was nervous?” Pax asked. “Who would be nervous about having sex with a stranger in front of all their mutual friends and acquaintances?”

Isaac laughed, and kissed Pax again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You could maybe join Nate and I sometimes, if you want. Not to impose.”

“That’d be fun,” Isaac promised, and Pax smiled at him before finally pulling out.

“I should go. Because everyone’s had a turn, but it looks like some people want an extra turn so I should go. I’ll see you again in a bit.”

“On your extra turn?”

Pax just grinned. “Of course. I told you, stamina.”

Isaac laughed as the extra turn-ers started to line up for seconds. This was exactly what he’d hoped the sleepover would be.


	130. Isaac, Dick Measuring Contest (Sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course a dick-measuring contest would break out--and of course Isaac would be the judge.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174902577713/comparing-dick-sizes-staring-issac): "Comparing dick sizes staring Isaac?" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“The champion remains undefeated,” Isaac declared, giving Henry an apologetic smile. He held Henry in one hand and Owen in the other, their erections pressed against each other. Owen’s was bigger, by a bit. “Sorry, Henry.”

Henry shrugged, stepping back and shaking Owen’s hand. “Had to try.”

“Any other takers?” Isaac asked, looking around. They’d needed an impartial judge for the dick-measuring contest, and though Isaac was far from impartial when it came to dicks, he was the local expert. As he waited, he squeezed Owen’s dick, keeping it hard.

“Me,” Trevor said, wandering over, half-hard in his shorts.

“Alright,” Isaac said, reaching over and pulling them right down, grabbing hold of Trevor’s dick and working it to get it hard. Everyone knew that size only mattered when a dick was hard, after all. Isaac jerked it a bit, then put Trevor in his mouth to suck on him for a full minute until he was hard, while several of the other boys cheered him on. Even in his mouth Isaac knew Trevor wasn’t going to win, but it was the contest that was fun, not the results.

So he held their dicks together, pressed as close as he could, and inspected them. Trevor was a bright shade of red, looking down and seeing that he’d lost. Owen smirked.

“Sorry, champ stays champ,” Isaac said, giving Trevor a consoling lick before letting him go. “Good effort, though.”

They shook hands—Isaac had insisted on good sportsmanship—and Trevor retreated, kicking his shorts off as he went.

“Alright, I’m next,” Wes said, lumbering forward, looking confident. Behind Owen, Gavin was smirking, like he had been since this had started, obviously enjoying watching his boyfriend beat everyone.

“Let’s see the challenger, then.” Isaac pulled down Wes’s sweatpants, revealing him. Mostly hard already, he was the closest contender Isaac thought they’d had yet. “Nice,” Isaac muttered, setting about getting Wes the rest of the way hard.

Wes tasted nice too, and he patted Isaac on the side of the head as Isaac sucked him, quietly telling him thank you. What a friendly guy. Isaac kept squeezing Owen too, just so he wouldn’t flag. Not that he thought that was a problem.

Once Wes was good and hard, Isaac pulled off, pulled them together with a grin. For once he actually wasn’t sure. He held them up closer together, lining them up. Wes had height and muscle on Owen, but they were roughly the same size to eyeball. But up close, pressed up against each other, held still under Isaac’s hand, there was a clear winner. The room waited with bated breath.

“We have a new champion,” Isaac said, giving Wes a kiss. A cheer went up.

Isaac grinned up at Owen. “Sorry.”

Owen shrugged, seeming fine. Behind him, Gavin looked surprised. “It happens. Good genes.”

“Here,” Isaac said, leaning forward. “The outgoing champion deserves a consolation prize.”

The crowd cheered as Isaac slipped his lips over Owen’s dick, taking it into his mouth and not stopping. Considering he’d been edging Owen for nearly forty-five minutes, Isaac didn’t expect this to last very long. He relaxed his throat, taking Owen all the way down to the root, and sure enough, within a minute or two Owen seized up and shot a ton of cum down Isaac’s throat to another loud cheer.

Isaac pulled off, and Owen shook Wes’s hand, grinning. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Wes said, and Owen gracefully bowed out to a round of applause, joining Gavin, who sat in his lap and kissed him fiercely.

“Challengers to our new champion?” Isaac asked. There were a number of guys who hadn’t participated in the contest yet, but that was probably because they knew they couldn’t win and wanted to spare the embarrassment. Isaac thought the embarrassment was half the fun, but that was just him. “If not, I’ll award him first prize right now.”

“First Prize” was currently written across Isaac’s ass in Sharpie, courtesy of Nicholas.

“Me!” A voice said, and Joey leapt forward, already stripping his loose boxers off. “Me, I’ll challenge him!”

Chuckles went up from the audience, but Isaac smiled. “Have at it, then,” he said, reaching out to take Joey. And pausing because…wow. Once his shorts fell, Joey was a lot bigger than he looked on the outside.

Wes just looked resigned, but he and his boyfriends were friends with Joey, so he’d probably already known about this. Isaac smirked, and took Joey in his hand. “Good things come on small packages sometimes,” he commented, slipping his lips past Joey’s head.

“I think you mean small things have big packages,” Joey corrected with a giggle, as Isaac sucked him to hardness.

The difference was clear, but Isaac measured anyway. He had to call for a stool for Joey to stand on since he was so much shorter than Wes, but once they were about the same height, the difference in size between them was obvious enough not to require careful measure. “Sorry, Wes,” he said. “A short tenure as champion.”

A cheer went up and Wes grinned, shaking Joey’s hand. “Do I still get the consolation prize?”

“Of course,” Isaac said, getting to work on that right away. He hadn’t had the benefit of holding Wes for most of an hour, so it took a while longer, but eventually he got Wes’s cum down his throat too, to another cheer. It was a very excitable crowd tonight.

“Nobody’s going to beat me,” Joey said, hands on his hips, smirking confidently. Isaac couldn’t disagree. “We can just end the contest now.”

“Well,” Isaac said, though Joey was right, “Let’s see. Anyone want to challenge the titan?”

“I do,” a voice said, and Louis strutted forward. Isaac hadn’t been expecting that, but well. Louis dropped his boxers the minute he walked into the circle. And he, like Joey, was hung like a horse. Or maybe like the green dragon tattooed on his thigh.

Joey glared at him. “You suck.”

“Don’t be a bad sport, runt,” Louis said, stepping forward and letting Isaac suck on his dick until it was hard. Then he pressed up against Joey, letting Isaac do the measuring.

The difference was slight, but it was there. The fact that Louis had several inches of height, not to mention at least two years, on Joey made the fact that he was only a tiny bit bigger interesting. Joey would win this if they did it again in a few more years, Isaac thought. He’d have to set a date.

But in the meantime… “The green dragon wins!” Isaac smiled apologetically at Joey, who’d seemed so excited. “Sorry, Joey.”

Joey sighed. “Oh, well. He didn’t win by much.”

Ah, so Joey had noticed that too. If he was patient, he’d be fine.

Until then, though, Isaac sucked him down, going slowly but obviously surprising Joey by taking all of him down eventually, to the point where Joey gasped and came nearly right away once his pubic area hit Isaac’s nose. Isaac barely had time to smell the remnants of his shaving cream before he was swallowing the flood of cum that Joey pumped down his throat.

Once that was done, Isaac pulled off, breathing carefully. He was going to have a sore throat tomorrow, but it was worth it for the look on Joey’s face. “Sh-show Travis how to do that…”

“Sure,” Isaac said, voice cracking a little. He was always down for a deepthroating lesson. “But first thing’s first, any more takers?”

There were none, and Isaac smirked up at Louis, then gave a lick all up his shaft, making Louis shudder. “Then someone bring me a lot of lube. It’s time to hand out first prize.”


	131. Wes/Joey, Random Draw, pt. 1 (Sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a sleepover request from Gamerkun 0525, who [requested](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174905367928/got-a-request-from-gamerkun0525-for-size) the biggest guy at the sleepover topping the smallest guy. We talked about it a bit and since that's Wes and Joey, we decided that Cal, Wes, Mick, Sully, Travis and Joey stuck their names in a bowl and randomly drew names to shake up pairings, so parts two and three will feature some combination of the other four guys. I also went ahead and tossed in the beginnings of some thoughts I'm having about a dominance struggle between these two, since they both like to call the shots in bed.

“Alright,” Cal said, shaking the bowl they’d put all their names in. “Remember the rules. First name tops, second name bottoms, no takebacks.”

“Do we trust Cal not to rig it?” Sully asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey!”

Wes smirked. Sully knew Cal pretty well despite not knowing him for as long as they had. “No,” he said. “You pick the names, Sully.”

They’d decided to do this with Joey and Travis because six people fucking all at once was a bit unwieldy, though Wes didn’t think that was the real reason. He was pretty sure the real reason was because they were easing Joey and Travis into at least semi-permanently joining their growing relationship, and Cal was hoping that some one-on-one time might make that transition less sudden than just saying “Hey, why not the six of us start banging pretty regularly.”

Wes had a feeling that the direct approach would work just fine—it had worked with Cal, it had worked with Sully, and Joey for sure was pretty direct about what he wanted and didn’t. But whatever, he was going with Cal’s unspoken plan for now. He smiled at Mick as they waited for Sully to pull out some names over Cal’s indignant grumbling.

Sully pulled out the first slip of paper. “Wes,” he read.

Wes grinned. “Nice.” He’d have been down to bottom for whoever, but he liked topping better. He grinned at all of them. “No takebacks,” he reminded them.

Though if Joey or Travis changed their minds, it wasn’t like Wes was going to force them or anything.

“We’re not,” Travis said, smiling back. “I can take you.” He nodded down at Wes’s boner, glancing sideways at Joey’s.

Wes snorted. “I bet you can.” He didn’t know exactly how often Joey topped Travis, but it was probably often enough.

“Joey,” Sully read, taking the second slip of paper from the bowl.

All eyes went to Joey, who just grinned, jumping to his feet and giving Travis a kiss on the head before plopping down in Wes’s lap. He kissed Wes, grinding his dick against Wes’s. “Let’s do it!” he said, excited.

Wes was excited too. Joey was so…small in his lap. And when Wes reached down and lifted him up, he hardly seemed to weigh anything.

It was like the gods of chance had smiled on him and given him a few minutes with the smallest guy here. And the fact that the gods of chance knew that Wes had a thing for small guys? Well, he’d worry about that later.

Wes lifted Joey up and kissed his belly. “Let’s do it, then.”

Joey giggled a little, and Wes rolled him over, planting another kiss on his lower back, then on his buttcheek, and then nosing in between the cheeks to lick his entrance, just once. Joey wriggled, but couldn’t go anywhere since Wes was holding him up. “Wes…”

Wes stood, Joey still in his arms, and walked off just a few steps so he wasn’t right in the way as Sully drew the next two names. He sat back down, and flipped Joey again so that his head was aligned with Wes’s groin, his knees on Wes’s shoulders. “What are you doing?” Joey asked. “This part’s supposed to go up there.”

Wes pinched Joey’s left buttcheek, getting a small yelp. “Going to stretch you.”

“I don’t need…”

“Yes, you do,” Wes let go with one hand, reached for the bottle of lube that was on top of his bag. “I’m bigger than Travis, so you have to get stretched. Suck me off while I do it.”

Joey made a noise, but he complied. Wes had watched him order Travis around, make demands of Cal, generally expect that everything was his to dominate. Well, right now Wes felt like being in charge.

And as he’d predicted, Joey didn’t seem too bothered by that. He took a good chunk of Wes into his mouth as Wes opened the lube and slicked up his fingers, and moaned around Wes’s cock as Wes slipped the first finger into his hole. Joey took more of his cock and Wes’s second finger, but started to struggle on both ends after that.

Wes was going slowly, inserting the third finger with care. His three fingers were thicker than Travis, so it was more than Joey was used to. While he did that, he reached down and patted Joey’s head. “It’s okay if you can’t take it all, little guy. Don’t choke yourself.” Wes’s cock felt about ready to explode inside Joey’s mouth as it was.

Predictably, though, Joey took that as a challenge and changed the angle of his head so that he could get the rest of it in, his throat relaxing as his slid farther down. His nose touched Wes’s scrotum, and Wes couldn’t keep in the moan that made him loose, driving his third finger all the way into Joey at once. Joey moaned around Wes, his voice box vibrating as he made the sound, and Wes couldn’t help but move his hips, driving up into Joey’s mouth while he slid his fingers in and out, finding Joey’s prostate and ramming it.

He only did that harder as he started to cum, growling Joey’s name as he flooded his throat, Joey working hard to swallow him down as Wes finger-fucked him into his own orgasm, which he spurted all down Wes’s chest, coating him.

When they were both done, Wes pulled his fingers out of Joey, then grabbed his ankles and lifted Joey clean off his cock with a pop. Joey let out a cough. “You were…supposed to fuck me…”

Wes smiled, manhandling Joey until he was the other way around, then kissing him. “I’m going to do that too,” he promised. “I just wanted to make sure you were nice and prepared, and that both of us were ready to last a long time, little guy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Joey muttered, blushing darkly.

“You don’t like it?”

“Well…it’s not my fault I’m short.”

Wes chuckled, and kissed Joey again. “I like that you’re short.” It was, physically speaking, one of the things he liked about Cal too. “Makes it easy for me to do whatever I want to you. Like this,” he said, slinging Joey over his shoulder and grabbing the lube again, slicking up his cock in addition to Joey’s spit.

“I’m going to get you for this,” Joey grumbled, hitting Wes’s back with his fist.

“I know,” Wes said, finishing with his cock and pulling Joey back down, positioning him for entry. He grinned at Joey. “We both like to be in charge. I think it’ll be fun when we compete over how we’re going to work that out.”

Joey looked at him for a second, and then he smiled, a wicket grin splitting his face. “I’m going to win.”

“Maybe.” Wes didn’t think it was a contest with a winner.

“I always win.”

“Not anymore, little guy,” Wes said, pressing against Joey’s hole, slowly entering.

“I’m going to…ah…make you my…little bitch,” Joey said, face screwed up as Wes pushed his head in. He sighed a little once it was in, and Wes started to slide him down, thrusting his hips as he went. He was tight inside, so warm.

“Yeah?” Wes grunted, his only regret that he couldn’t see his cock disappearing inside Joey right now. “How you going to do that…bouncing on my lap, little guy?” 

“You’re…” Joey broke off to moan, arching his back for a second as Wes got about halfway in. “Your only job is…is going to be…to lick off my dick after…after I’m done fucking your boyfriends with it…”

“You’re going to report to me every…night…” Wes said as he pushed Joey farther down, thrust farther up. “Every night. And I’ll…give you a bedtime snack…and pump your tiny little ass full of cum…”

“P-put your dick in a cage…” Joey’s eyes were screwed shut, his hands on Wes’s shoulders. “I’ll let…let the others f-fuck you when I’m not using them…”

“Dress you in cute little…outfits.” Wes had to stop for a second to groan, his dick throbbing inside Joey. “Sailor suits and school uniforms and…sports gear…you’re going to be so adorable…”

“Change your…name…” Joey said, taking deep breaths as Wes went farther. Most of the way there. “We’ll all just call you…little bitch…”

“Put you over my knee and…and spank you when you misbehave…” Wes was going to explode.

“And you’re going to love it…because deep down that’s what you want…”

“You’re going to thank me for it. We both know you don’t really want to dominate anything…ah!” Wes got all the way in, felt Joey clench all around him. He put his arms around Joey, held him in place, letting them both catch their breath and get used to the feeling.

But once Joey relaxed and their breathing both calmed down, Wes leaned forward, setting Joey’s back against the ground and holding his hips in the air, and he started to pull back, then forward, then back, pushing in. He got a good slow rhythm going to start with, then pulled all the way out, watching his cock slide all the way back inside Joey’s tiny frame, entranced. He did it several more times, just to watch it happen. The whole thing, the whole thing was fitting in there, no problem.

But he could see Joey getting impatient, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists, moving around. So Wes picked up speed, lifting Joey’s hips higher, getting up on his knees to be able to move faster. Joey ended up laying on his shoulders while Wes held him up, getting a good speed going now. Joey didn’t seem to mind, smiling, looking up at Wes without seeing him particularly, clearly enjoying this.

Wes reached down and picked Joey back up, holding him aloft by the ribs as he fucked Joey faster, harder, deeper, pulling moans and grunts and groans out of Joey and himself, and soon, sooner than he would have liked, it was over, his orgasm building, building, building, shooting inside Joey like a bomb going off in Wes’s belly, a loud cry escaping his lips as he came. Joey opened his mouth and cried a soundless yell as he was filled, and he came as well, all over himself in strong spurts.

Wes pulled Joey off his cock with extreme reluctance, taking a second to watch his cum leak out of Joey’s stretched hole, before pulling him up and cuddling Joey against his chest. They held each other, breathing. Joey looked content, and he was relaxed in Wes’s arms. “Travis isn’t that rough with me…”

“Sorry,” Wes said, patting Joey’s hair. He didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

“No,” Joey said, shaking his head. “I liked it. It was nice.”

Wes smiled, kissing the top of Joey’s head. “I’m never that rough with Cal or Mick or Sully either.” They weren’t as into the rough as Wes sometimes was. Thought to be fair he hadn’t been with Sully that much.

Joey snorted against his chest. “You got lucky this time cause your name came up first.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed. “I really did.”

“Next time it’ll be different.”

“I know.” Wes grinned now, looking down at Joey. “Next time you’re going to beg for it.”

“As if,” Joey chuckled. “You’ll be lucky if I let you cum at all next time.”

Wes tilted Joey’s head up, and leaned down to kiss him on the mouth. “Alright then. May the best man win.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

It really didn’t matter to Wes what came of their little dominance struggle, honestly. Because they’d already both won as far as he was concerned.


	132. Boey/Isaac, Anal (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Boey fucking Isaac, that's all.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175030219503/can-you-do-isaac-getting-fucked-by-someone-of-your): "Can you do Isaac getting fucked by someone of your choice at the sleepover?" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Boey nodded, erection in hand, looking down at Isaac, whose legs were spread apart, waiting for him. “I’m ready. I just don’t usually do stuff like this.”

“What?” Isaac asked, looking coy. “You don’t normally have sex with people in public?”

Boey chuckled, some of his nerves diffusing. Isaac was good at that. “No, in fact. Though I wouldn’t call this public.”

“How many people have to be around for it to be public?” Isaac asked, looking around.

“I think it’s more that this is a private gathering…of dozens of people I barely know.”

“In that case no reason not to go wild, right?” Isaac asked, nodding. “No holds barred, no rules, and so on. When else are you going to get this opportunity?”

“You say that like you wouldn’t be interested normally.”

Isaac grinned. “Maybe. Still, you should fuck me anyway.”

Boey laughed. “Well, how can I say no when you’re asking so enthusiastically?”

“Exactly!” Isaac said, wiggling his hips a little. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Oh, I know I can do it,” Boey said, and he leaned forward, pressing the head of his dick against Isaac’s hole. “I have done this once or twice.” A week, since he and Franz were old enough to make it work.

“Good,” Isaac’s face was content as Boey used his hand to push his head inside. “Oh, good…” he said, tone completely different as Boey got in, and started sliding further.

Boey concurred, letting out a happy noise as the warmth of Isaac covered him. He was nowhere near the first person to do this with Isaac tonight and he slid in easily as a result, stopping two thirds of the way in only because he stopped himself, pulling out to he could get a good angle to push the last third inside. “Ah…that is good…”

Isaac nodded, and Boey started moving, hands on either side of Isaac to brace himself, thrusting in and out. He knew where to aim, and Boey kept a close eye on Isaac as he did him, making sure that he didn’t need a hand on his dick to help him along. But Isaac seemed perfectly happy to lay there and let Boey fuck him, making little noises to encourage Boey along. The only thing he did was bring his hands up to Boey’s sides and tug as if to make him go faster.

So Boey did, speeding up beyond what he usually did with Franz, really going at Isaac until he had Isaac moaning and writhing underneath him, and until Boey was sweating and incoherent from the exertion, just thinking about getting them both off and not much else.

And get them off he did, erupting inside Isaac with a low cry, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed as far in as he could to finish. When he was done, though sensitive, he gave a few more thrusts, hitting Isaac’s prostate, and got Isaac to cum as well, a satisfied sound escaping from him at the same time as his cum.

Boey sighed, and he pulled out of Isaac, laying down beside him. Isaac moved over immediately, resting his head on Boey’s shoulder. “Thanks,” Boey said, arm around Isaac.

“You too,” Isaac said back, smiling. “You were right.”

“Was I?” Boey wasn’t surprised, but he wondered about what specifically.

Isaac nodded. “About the whole opportunity thing. Offer’s always open. Just give me a call.”

Boey chuckled, drawing Isaac a little closer. It wasn’t actually a bad idea for the next time Franz went on a date with Gabrielle and didn’t come home. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


	133. Jacob/Isaac, Totally Not Jealousy (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and Isaac having a moment.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175030296163/can-we-have-some-nsfw-isaacjacob-at-the): "Can we have some nsfw Isaac/Jacob at the sleepover? They were adorable in that new Chosen One Chapter," by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

Jacob wasn’t jealous or anything.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know that Isaac slept around, he’d known that before they’d started dating. He was cool with it, it was fine. And besides, it wasn’t like everyone at this sleepover wasn’t doing a little sleeping around—he himself had just gotten a handjob from some guy named Ron while getting his fortune told—so it really wasn’t surprising at all that Isaac had gotten in a few people’s pants. A lot of people’s pants.

Nobody’s pants, technically, since nobody was wearing any. It was a euphemism to indicate that Jacob’s boyfriend had had a lot of dicks inside him in the last few hours.

So it wasn’t like Jacob was jealous or anything, but at the same time, he kind of felt like now was a good time to go over and cuddle Isaac a bit. Just because.

“Hey,” Isaac said, as Jacob sat beside him on the couch, offering him a cookie.

“Hey,” Jacob said back, trying not to look like something was wrong as he put his arm around Isaac, pulling him closer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jacob said, annoyed that Isaac had seen through him again. But then, the fact that Isaac always saw through his mysterious persona was one of the things that Jacob liked about him.

Isaac looked over at him. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I just…” Jacob sighed. He might as well just say it and be done with it. “I just feel funny.”

“Bad funny?”

“Mostly it’s ‘I just watched you have sex with my brother’ funny,” Jacob told him.

Isaac blinked, frowning a little. “Your brother is here?”

“Pax.”

Isaac nodded, smiling a little. Not that long ago, he’d been on his hands and knees while Pax fucked him and he sucked Pax’s boyfriend off. “He’s a nice guy. Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize he was your brother or I’d have asked if it was okay.”

“It’s fine,” Jacob said right away, because it really was. “It just made me feel a bit funny, watching him do you.” It hadn’t been jealousy, there was no reason for him to be jealous and Jacob knew that.

“Wish you’d told me he was here,” Isaac said, sliding over until he was in Jacob’s lap.

“Yeah, well, I’m too mysterious for that,” Jacob muttered. “Can’t tell you everyone I’ve related to.”

“At least not until after I’ve had sex with them?”

Jacob smiled despite himself, wrapping his arms around Isaac now. “I love you,” he said, because he felt it. He loved Isaac so much.

“I love you too,” Isaac said, turning so he was facing Jacob and hugging him now. “I really appreciate how cool you are with me. Not everyone would be.”

“Most people seem to be pretty cool with you,” Jacob observed.

“Most people aren’t in a committed relationship with me.” Isaac smiled. “I know I don’t make it easy.”

“It doesn’t have to be easy,” Jacob said, hugging tighter. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Isaac repeated, pausing. He smiled mischievously. “You know you’re hard?”

Isaac was too. Jacob nodded, smiling back. “Well, I have a very pretty naked boy sitting in my lap and he’s about to proposition me, why wouldn’t I be hard?”

“What makes you think I’m about to proposition you?”

“Just a hunch.”

Isaac snorted. And he kissed Jacob. “You want to have a turn on your boyfriend?”

Jacob smiled, hands on Isaac’s backside. “Seems like you’re the one taking a turn on me.”

“We can switch positions if you want.”

“No,” Jacob said, lifting Isaac a little. “This is good.”

Isaac grinned, and he reached down and took Jacob in hand, pulling his erection and orienting it right, before lowering himself down with Jacob’s help, sliding onto Jacob’s dick.

Jacob sighed happily as he rose up inside Isaac, trying to avoid making a louder noise. He loved this, and he knew Isaac did too, which made it so much better. Isaac kissed Jacob gently, sliding all the way down, arms around Jacob’s neck.

Jacob thrust his hips up a little, but just a little. Isaac did most of the work, moving his hips back and forth, riding Jacob while he kissed him. Jacob kept his hands around Isaac’s back, rubbing him all over, holding him tight, while Isaac rode him. He forgot for a while that they were in the middle of an orgy, he forgot for a while that they weren’t alone. It was just him and Isaac, connected, together.

His orgasm felt like waking up from a dream, gentle and quiet but strong as he came inside Isaac. Isaac kissed him through it, and the warmth Jacob could feel on his belly suggested he wasn’t the only one who’d cum. Isaac had stopped kissing Jacob, panting. “Love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Jacob told him. He caught himself biting his lip and stopped. It was a habit he was trying to get out of. “Um.”  
“What?”

Jacob felt silly even thinking it. But Isaac would get it out of him one way or the other. “Was I better?”

“Than your brother?” Isaac asked, chuckling. “Jealous, Jacob?”

“No,” Jacob muttered, looking away. “Why would I be jealous? I have no reason to be jealous. You’re my boyfriend, not his. I can do this whenever I want, not just at a sleepover. No jealousy here. I’m just, you know, curious. Benign sibling rivalry, if I’m not better at than him then I’m failing in my duty as the older brother, and…”

Isaac kissed him on the mouth, and Jacob stopped talking. “You were better.”

Jacob grinned, even though Isaac was probably just saying that to make him feel better. “I know,” he said, nodding. “Just checking. Love you.”

Isaac laughed again, patting Jacob’s back. “Love you too, Jacob.”

That was all Jacob needed.


	134. Frederick/Travis, Blowjob (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The request here didn't specific who Frederick's partner should be, so I randomly generated Travis. Warning for slightly more underage than usual, if the title didn't give it away.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175030401493/congrats-on-the-100-followers-in-the-sleepover): "In the sleepover story Fredrick was hanging out with Derek and Todd and Simon, and I was wondering if we could get them finding out that he's a virgin (at least I think he is haha) and getting him to fix that? Thanks!" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“Truth.”

Todd grinned at him. Frederick shifted uncomfortably. “How often do you do sex stuff with Franz and Boey?”

Frederick blinked, wondering where that had come from. Well, he knew. That was what most of the truth questions had been about. He’d learned a lot about Todd, Derek and Simon, not to mention Silas, in the last few minutes. “Never?”

All three of the boys looked genuinely shocked at that. Todd scoffed. “Liar.”

“I’m serious! Why would I do sex stuff with them?”

“You…really? Never?”

“Yeah.” Why didn’t they believe him? Even Silas was looking at him kind of funny.

“Well…who do you have sex with, then?”

“Nobody…?” Frederick asked, looking around. He was hard in his boxers and looking around didn’t help with that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been exposed to sex, and well. Everywhere he looked, there was some sex.

This was a weird sleepover. He was having fun.

“Wait,” Derek said, leaning. “You’re…you’re a virgin?”

Blushing for no reason, Frederick leaned forward and span the bottle. He’d already answered his question. It pointed at Simon. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth…” Simon said, hesitant. Frederick didn’t blame him.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” Frederick asked. It was the kind of question they’d all been asking each other.

Simon blushed, though. “Lunchtime,” he muttered, spinning the bottle. It landed on Todd. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

Simon dared Todd to stick a cookie down his briefs and then eat it. Then Todd got Simon to tell them what his earlier jerk-off fantasy had been (it had been about his friend Daniel). Then Simon asked Silas if he’d ever jerked off at school (he had, much to Frederick’s surprise). The Silas dared Derek to try and suck his own dick, which he failed at, then Derek dared Simon to sneakily take pictures of some guys having sex over there to see if they’d notice (they didn’t), then Simon asked Frederick if he’d ever stuck anything up his butt (only once), and Frederick dared Todd to kiss Derek, and Todd dared Silas to lick his feet, then Silas dared Derek to go over and steal someone’s discarded underwear and wear them instead of his own, and Todd picked truth for once and Derek asked him who at the sleepover he most wanted to fuck.

Todd blushed deeply, reaching out for the bottle. “You,” he muttered, spinning. It landed on Frederick. “Truth or dare,” he asked, grinning, as if that last thing hadn’t happened, and hadn’t left both him and Derek cherry red.

Frederick bit his lip, taking a breath and preparing to ask for truth like he had all night. As he opened his mouth Todd looked at the ceiling. “Bawk, bawk, bawk…”

“Hey!”

The other three joined in, and Frederick glared, feeling just a little betrayed. Okay, well. He hadn’t actually taken any dares tonight, to be fair. “Fine, fine,” Frederick muttered. “Dare.”

Todd grinned. Frederick knew what he’d just asked for. “I dare you to…”

“If you make it too intense, he’s not going to do it,” Derek warned. Which was true. Frederick would rather take a penalty than do…something too intense.

Todd rolled his eyes, but he nodded. “Fine. I dare you to go suck someone’s dick.”

“What…whose?” Frederick looked around. There were enough options. Silas was snickering.

“I don’t care.” Todd looked around too. “That guy looks like he could use a blowjob,” he suggested, pointing at a brown-haired guy who was over there bouncing on a big dude’s lap. His name was Travis—Frederick had made sure to learn almost everyone’s names here—and the guy he was with was called Wes. Their respective boyfriends were scattered around them in other states of debauchery.

Debauchery had been on Frederick’s word of the day calendar for today. It was extremely fitting.

Red from the roots of his hair down to the waistband of his stretched underwear, Frederick nodded, standing up. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered, not about to be called a coward.

“You have to suck him until he cums,” Todd added. “And swallow it. Or it doesn’t count.”

Frederick nodded, determined. He could do it. Franz did it all the time and seemed to like it well enough. And Boey had a bigger dick than Travis did.

So Frederick went over there, summoning his courage, and stood in front of Travis and Wes. “Um…excuse me?”

Travis opened his eyes, bleary. “Y-yeah?”

No easy way to say it. So Frederick just spit it out. “Can I suck your dick?”

Travis smiled. Wes never stopped bouncing him up and down, his dick filling Travis’s hole. Frederick tried not to watch that raptly. Travis definitely seemed to be enjoying that. “Sure,” Travis said, spreading his legs a little farther.

Frederick nodded. “Th-thank you,” he said, getting down on his hands and knees and crawling towards it. Travis’s dick bounced in front of his face for a second, and Frederick grabbed it to keep it steady. It looked bigger up close. But he took a breath, hearing chicken noises in his head, and leaned forward, putting it in his mouth.

It wasn’t so bad. It tasted funny, but Frederick had sort of expected that. He had no idea what to do, so he just started sucking. Wes bouncing Travis meant that Travis’s dick got pushed farther up into his mouth than he’d expected, but Frederick just sucked, breathing through his nose.

Travis was making funny noises, but that was probably from being fucked, so Frederick just kept going, noticing that Travis was already leaking a lot onto his tongue. He’d probably been getting close to an orgasm even before Frederick had come over to help.

Sure enough, a second later, Travis’s dick jumped a little and he yelped, and hot cum surged into Frederick’s mouth, and it made Frederick gag, tasting gross, but Frederick powered through it, swallowing all that he could. He didn’t manage to get quite all of it, but most of it.

Frederick let Travis’s dick out of his mouth. That hadn’t been bad. He smiled up at Travis. “Thank you.”

Travis was grinning, still bouncing. “Thank you,” he said.

“I hope you don’t think we’re done,” Wes muttered, “Because I’ve got a ways to go yet.”

Frederick giggled, and he got up and kissed Travis on the cheek. “Good luck,” he said, heading back over to join the game. He sat back down, ignoring the looks all three of them were giving him, and he swiped Todd’s Pepsi and drank from it to wash the taste out of his mouth, then wiped his chin with someone’s discarded t-shirt.

Then he span the bottle, and it pointed at Silas. “Truth or dare?”


	135. Nicholas/Isaac, Exhibition (nsfw, sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nicholas, Isaac and Nicholas's exhibition kink have some fun.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175294504313/can-you-do-isaac-getting-fucking-by-nicholas-at): "Could you do Isaac getting fucked by Nicholas at the sleepover?" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“Come on, Nikky, you can do it,” Isaac teased, laying there on the sleepaway mattress with his rump in the air, wiggling it a little at Nicholas.

Nicholas resisted—barely—the urge to reach out and spank it. “No…there are people. Let’s go in the other room.”

“There are people there too,” Isaac told him. “And you like that there are people, don’t you?”

“I…”

“You going to pretend that you’re not hiding a boner behind that leg?”

Nicholas blushed. He did in fact have a raging hardon in his boxers, still stubbornly on his body even as more and more guys decided to just turn the sleepover into a birthday suit formal. “Shut up.”

“You know,” Isaac said, smiling at Nicholas. “I’ve always been really impressed with your ability to stick to your guns even against overwhelming odds. I mean you’re here at a party that’s a handjob away from turning into an orgy, with the cutest person you know naked and literally offering you his ass to fuck, but you still manage to hold out. It’s really adorable.”

Nicholas felt like he might die. He wasn’t adorable. He was sensible. “It’s not one handjob away from being an orgy, dumbass, that’s just you being horny.”

“Uh-huh. I’m going to remind you that you said that in…” Isaac looked around the room. “Twenty minutes. Come on, I know you want people to watch.”

“Well…” There was no point in denying that. Isaac had him completely pegged in that regard. Which was Nicholas’s own stupid fault for not being able to stop himself from fucking Isaac in the shower a few weeks back even after a few people walked in and saw them. There was no coming back from that to pretend he didn’t like being watched. “Other people don’t want to watch us,” he said instead. “They’re just trying to have fun.”

Isaac smirked, then looked over to the other side of the room. “Really? Cause I see Owen fucking Gavin right over there in the open.”

Against his better judgement Nicholas looked over and yep, there was Owen with his arms wrapped around their host, ploughing into him from behind on an air mattress. And a few people were watching them.

“See? Nobody cares.” Isaac grinned. “In fact, looks like people are into it. So…are you just going to let those two steal your audience like that?”

“I…” Nicholas’s cock was throbbing in his boxers, He swallowed. “Shut up and hand me the lube,” he muttered, holding out his hand.

Isaac smirked and tossed him the bottle, which Nicholas fumbled to catch. He thumbed it open with one hand and pulled his cock out through the fly of his boxers with the other, pouring the lube right onto his boner and smearing it around.

There was no way that Isaac wasn’t already stretched because there was no way that Nicholas was the first person Isaac had had up there tonight, so Nicholas got up on his knees, feeling short of breath, and lined himself up with Isaac’s entrance, using his other hand to spread his cheeks a little.

Sure enough, when Nicholas pressed against Isaac’s hole, he met even less resistance than usual as Isaac opened up to swallow him, and he slid in harder than he meant to, winding up most of the way inside Isaac all at once. “S-sorry.”

Isaac nodded, panting. “It’s okay. Keep going.”

“Yeah,” Nicholas agreed, and he did, pulling mostly out of Isaac before pushing the rest of the way in, then giving a few experimental thrusts to get his rhythm before putting his hands on Isaac’s hips, taking a breath, and starting to fuck him properly.

As usual, Isaac was amazing around Nicholas’s cock, tight and hot and all those things that everyone in porn had always said people’s insides were like but which Nicholas had never believed until he’d actually put his dick inside someone for the first time. Isaac accommodated Nicholas easily and made content little noises to show Nicholas how happy he was to do that. “You like that?” Nicholas asked.

“Yeah…”

“Good.” Nicholas gave more of it to him, faster, harder, grunting as he went. He’d been so pent up, so on edge since Isaac had been teasing him half the night, and he wasn’t going to last very long but Nicholas didn’t care, he just kept fucking Isaac, desperate to get off.

“That guy over there is…watching us…” Isaac moaned, and that was enough for Nicholas. He didn’t even look up to confirm before he started to cum, letting out a loud noise as he drove his cum into Isaac where they both wanted it.

When he was done, panting, Nicholas glanced up and saw that someone had indeed been watching them. He smiled at the guy, who smiled back. And then Nicholas looked down at Isaac. “You didn’t cum.”

“No,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not.” Nicholas pulled out, and awkwardly started to push his boxers down, tossing them away. Then he grinned, slid back inside Isaac. A look around showed that actually a couple of people had their eyes on them. And Nicholas was still hard as a fucking rock. “You did ask me to fuck you, after all. So I think I’ll just keep going until you cum too.”

Isaac grinned at him over his shoulder. “Works for me. People are watching. Let’s put on a show, Nikky.”

“You’d better believe we will, Izzy.” Nicholas gave Isaac a smack on the ass for the nickname, and then set about giving everyone something to look at.


	136. James, Fortune telling (sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175662477858/james-with-more-fortune-telling): "James with more fortune telling?" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“The Hierophant,” James said, smiling at Cal as he frowned at the cards. “Represents wisdom and power, and leadership, of a sort. I suppose you often find yourself in situations where you’re expected to take charge, hm?”

“Y-yeah,” Cal said, obviously a tad freaked. “I mean I’m the DM for our gaming group and I guess I kind of lead the way normally and everything too, so yeah.”

James nodded. “Just be careful, it’s upside-down, so you might find your authority challenged. Remember that Justice was your first card, so as long as you keep doing the right thing you’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Cal muttered, still frowning. “Should I…”

“Sure.”

He reached out and flipped over the last card. “The Tower,” James said. “Ambition, but also the hard work that you need to realize that ambition.”

“I don’t know about that…”

James shrugged. “It’s just a metaphor. When in doubt, I tend to assume it’s a dick joke painted onto the card. Don’t suppose there’s anyone’s pants you’re trying to get into at the moment?”

Cal blinked, went bright red, and didn’t answer. “Um. Anything else?”

“I’d say just be extra-careful about what you think the right thing is,” James told him, pointing at Justice. “Your people will follow you but if you mislead them, you’ll all have a big fall.” He smiled at Cal. “Don’t worry, though.” Now he pointed at the Tower. “These aren’t built alone. Listen to your friends and you’ll be fine. Okay?”

“Okay,” Cal muttered, nodding. “Cool. Thanks, man.”

“Not a problem,” James said, gathering up the cards and shuffling them.

Cal got up and left, looking thoughtful, and Ron looked at James. “That’s really spooky,” he said, watching the way James shuffled. “That you know all that.”

“Magic,” James said, looking around. Nobody was rushing up to have a reading done, so he smiled at Ron. “You want me to do one on you?”

“Sure…” Ron said, taking his spot in front of James, watching James deal out the three cards. “You already know everything about me, though, you don’t need cards to tell you.”

“That makes it easier,” James said, laying them down. “We’re already in resonance.”

“You make it look easy anyway. You know all that stuff about Owen. Some of it he’d never told anyone but me.”

Not that Ron had needed to know that Owen had lost his virginity in a soccer net, but hey, he did. And somehow James had known too.

James nodded at the table, and Ron flipped over the first card. “The Hermit,” James said. “Loneliness. That’s your past.”

“Yours too.”

“Yeah. Not anymore, though. The present.”

Ron flipped it over. “The Lovers. Guess that’s us,” he said, happy.

“I guess so. It also represents love generally, not just romantic. I’m glad that you’ve been reconnecting with Owen.”

“Me too,” Ron said, nodding. He flipped the last card. “Uh.”

James looked at it. “Death. It’s not as bad as it seems. It can mean endings, but also renewal and beginnings and changes and cutting away things that you don’t need. It’s the natural order.”

“Y-yeah…” Ron said, telling himself that James was right. It was just…hard, to see the skeletal face right next to the Lovers. “I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” James said, hand on the card, moving it aside.

“It’s hard not to.”

“I know. But honestly, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a card.”

“A card that tells the future.”

James snorted. “Not really.” He gathered them up. “Come on, Ron, magic isn’t real.”

“Funny how you only say that when it’s convenient for you,” Ron muttered.

James shrugged. “Want me to tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t actually know how to read Tarot.”

“What…”

“I’ve just been making it all up as I go along all night.”

Ron blinked. James looked at him, shuffling the cards. There was no hint of a joke on his face. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“But…you knew about Owen’s sex life, and about Louis’s crush on Joey and about Marcus’s anxiety and Wes’s mom and…”

James shrugged again. “Think back. How much of that did I know and how much of it did I hint at and let them tell me?”

Ron frowned, trying to remember. “Oh. Well. You definitely knew about Owen and the soccer net, though.”

“I overheard Gavin telling someone about it,” James said, smiling. “The point is that you shouldn’t worry too much about a card. I don’t even know what I’m doing, so even if you think they’re magic, there’s a good chance I shuffled them wrong. If you want a real reading, ask Jay.”

Ron didn’t want a real reading from James’s cousin. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re as bad at it as you think. You still managed to make a lot of people think about stuff and told people a lot of stuff that they might have needed to hear. And I think that’s what matters.”

James smiled. “Me too. Go get me something to eat. Pretending to tell the future is making me hungry.”

Ron laughed, got up, kissing James on the way. “I’ll be right back.”

“If you bring me celery I’m going to stick it in your ear.”

“Hm.” Ron said, wandering over to the food table, passing by Nicholas as he did. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Nicholas said, shyly pointing at James. “I’m going to…”

“Yeah. Pay attention, you might learn something about yourself.” Ron patted him on the shoulder.

“I don’t really believe in it, but…”

“That doesn’t make it any more or less real, right?” Ron grinned, left him to his future, and went to get James some food.

He avoided the celery.


	137. Owen and company, charades (sleepover)

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175662634468/what-would-the-guys-be-if-they-were-playing): "What would the guys be if they were playing Charades? Maybe they would do it at the sleepover," by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“This is silly,” Pax said, after time was called. “You know why it’s silly?”

“Because we’re losing?” Nate asked him, while a few other people chuckled.

“No, it’s bad because we’re losing. It’s silly because the fundamental premise of the game is flawed. The idea that we should be able to communicate certain ideas without sound and only with gesture is erroneous when viewed in the context of the history of human communication, which, while largely nonverbal, has always included a verbal element except in case of certain disabilities, but the point is that…”

“You’re not allowed to neigh,” Gavin interrupted. “You have to convey ‘horse’ without neighing. That’s the point of the game.”

Pax glared at him. “That’s why I’m saying the game is flawed.”

“Uh-huh,” Owen said, picking up a card. It was his turn to act all silly. “But you’re losing, and that’s what matters. Okay…” he cast a quick glance over at Joey, who was only half paying attention to the game.

“Three words,” Edwin muttered as Owen started. Owen knew he was just grateful he wasn’t competing against them for once. There were enough players that they’d broken into decent-sized teams.

Owen mimed blowing out smoke from a pipe. “Smoking, blowing, huffing…” Edwin said, waving his hand.

“Smoke rings, pipe…” Ty added.

Gavin just smiled. “Puff the Magic Dragon.”

Owen laughed, came over and handed him the card. “Asshole. I had a whole magic wand routine planned out.”

“Yeah, yeah, knowing you it was a not-so-elaborate dick joke anyway.”

“How did you get that?” Edwin demanded. “All he did was pretend to blow out smoke.”

“Puffing,” Gavin said. “And he looked at Joey before the round started, didn’t you notice? After that it was just fill in the blanks.” Joey had been a great help by doing a very memorable impersonation of a dragon a few rounds ago when he’d drawn the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It was the only word he’d managed to get anyone to guess.

“Well…” Edwin frowned as Owen sat down beside Gavin. “I’m pretty sure that’s cheating?”

“Nah,” Owen said, shrugging. “Besides, it’s your point too.”

“I definitely think it’s cheating,” Pax put in. “Somehow.”

“Yeah, but you don’t understand the rules of the game, so let’s not listen to you,” Gavin said, waving at the next team. “Your go.”

Sully ambled up and managed to get Mick to guess Angels in America by doing a decent impersonation of haughty prayer followed by an even more decent impersonation of an orange politician. Ron completely failed to get James or anyone on his team to get Lady and the Tramp, even after he got past the ‘sounds like stamp’ barrier. Franz somehow got Boey to guess Apollo Eleven by jumping up into the air and falling down, despite the fact that Boey’s near-perfect pantomime last turn hadn’t gotten Franz to guess the Lion King.

“Okay, we’re going to get this one,” Pax declared as Travis got up and started miming wearing a huge dress, then getting down on his haunches and pretending to croak. Pax guessed everything from Lady Macbeth to different alien races from Star Trek, but Joey saved the round by calling out the Princess and the Frog right before time was called, and got a snuggle for his trouble.

It was their turn again, and Edwin drew the card, made a face, and went up, thinking hard. Owen could see the moment the idea came to him, his whole face got lighter. He took a breath, held up four fingers, and then pointed right at Owen.

“Me?” Owen asked, pointing at himself. Edwin smiled, raised one hand and pointed at the ceiling. “Up, roof, ceiling, above, upstairs,” Owen muttered, pointing up there himself. Edwin started moving his head from side to side, and Owen scowled. “Metronome, rhythm, dance, what are you doing?” he asked, trying to move his own head to figure out what Edwin was on about. “Guys, help, I can’t be the only one to…”

Beside him, Gavin burst out laughing all of the sudden, literally falling over as he did. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“It’s…” Gavin had to cut himself off so he could laugh some more. “Monkey See, Monkey Do. That was brilliant, Edwin.”

Edwin was beaming. “I had a willing prop right there.”

“Oh,” Owen said, getting what had happened now. He narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to get you for that one.”

Edwin just shrugged, sat down. “It’s your point too, monkey.”

“I’ve never liked you.”

“That’s not what I hear.” He sounded entirely too smug. Gavin was still cackling.

Owen disapproved. But well, Gavin was having fun, there’d be plenty of time to get Edwin back later, and they were winning. So it was fine.

And as the game moved on, Owen had to admit that it had been pretty brilliant.


	138. Sully/Mick, Random Draw, pt. 2 (sleepover, nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of Gamerkun's [request](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175664361838/part-two-of-gamerkun0525s-request-for-the-team), featuring Sully and Mick!

After Wes had carried Joey off for their randomly-mandated sex (God, Mick hoped that Wes didn’t tear Joey in half), Sully picked the next name out of the bowl. “Um. It’s me.” He was blushing a little.

Cal snickered, punching Sully. “And we were worried I’d rig it.”

“Whatever,” Sully muttered, drawing out the second name. He bit his lip, then looked at Mick, showing him the paper. “Should be no problem, right?”

Mick smiled, took Sully’s hand. “You’re nowhere near as big as Wes. Come on.”

Sully blushed again, reached into the bowl and pulled out another paper, tossing it at Cal. “There you go.”

And he got up, let Mick lead him away just a bit, and sat down again, taking the bottle of lube out of Mick’s hands when Mick picked it up. “I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” Mick said, chuckling a little at his embarrassment. “Not the best rigging job I’ve ever seen.”

“I…didn’t,” Sully lied, as he lubed up his fingers.

“Sure.” Mick lay back and spread his legs, watching Sully. “You know you can just fuck Cal whenever you want, right? He’d say yes.”

“I know that,” Sully muttered, moving Mick’s knee aside and rubbing some lube on the outside of his hole, face a picture of concentration. “Just don’t want to seem like I’m honing in.”

Mick chuckled. Sully normally projected anger, but suddenly he seemed unsure of himself. “You’re not. You wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want you.”

“Cal wants me,” Sully said, and he inserted a finger as he spoke, sliding in easily. “You guys put up with me because you love Cal.”

Oh. Mick hadn’t realized that was what Sully thought. “No, that’s not true. We all talked about it, the three of us.”

Sully looked up at Mick, paused in the act of inserting a second finger. “I know you’re not a fan of me, you don’t have to lie. I’m a big boy, Mick.”

“Keep going with those fingers. You really think any part of you would be inside me if I didn’t like you?”

“Well…” Sully just gave a confused frown and kept fingering Mick quietly until he was ready. “I’m putting it in.”

“Wow me,” Mick ordered.

Sully snorted, guiding his dick inside Mick, putting a hand on Mick’s belly as he went. He pushed inside, concentrating, breath coming hard as he started to fuck Mick. Mick wanted to close his eyes but didn’t, watching Sully go. He stayed mostly upright, not going nearly as fast or hard as he did with Cal, and Mick liked it. “You’re good,” he told Sully, content.

Sully cocked a little grin, wrapped his hand around Mick’s dick. “So they keep telling me,” he panted, obviously resisting picking up more speed. He managed to hit Mick’s prostate, and Mick let out an involuntary noise, which got Sully smiling more. “Got you.” And with surprisingly good aim—it had taken Mick weeks to train Cal to aim properly—he started attacking that spot, jerking Mick off as he went, driving Mick deep into the wave of sensation that they were riding together.

Mick came with a groan, spilling on himself. “Sully…”

“Fuck, Mick…” Sully wasn’t far behind him, and he pulled out of Mick to add to the mess on Mick’s belly, before immediately collapsing beside him, sweaty.

Mick wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, and he kissed Sully on the cheek. “That was good.”

“Thanks.” He looked worried, and let out a sigh. “Um. I did rig the game.”

“I know.” It had been obvious that he was planning to from the start.

“Not so I could fuck Cal. I rigged it so I’d get you. But then I accidentally grabbed my name first instead of yours.”

Oh. Mick blinked. He hadn’t expected that, and he pulled Sully a bit closer. “If you want me to fuck you, just say so, dummy.”

Sully was blushing like mad. “Yeah, yeah. I just…knew that you were the one who I needed to convince, is all.”

“And you thought bottoming for me would do it? That’s adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“You don’t need to convince me, Sully.” Mick kissed him again. “It was a three-person relationship. Yeah, Cal was the one with the boner for you, and he’s always going to be a bit more poly than us, but it wouldn’t have become a four-person relationship if all three of us hadn’t agreed to it.”

Sully wasn’t wrong that Mick hadn’t been the keenest on opening the circle to make it a square, but he was there now. It was okay. He understood that Cal loving someone other than him and Wes didn’t mean that he loved them less. And Mick could learn to love Sully. He was a good amount of the way there already.

Sully was beet red against Mick’s chest. “It’s a four-person relationship? Like…with me?”

“Yeah, what did you think it was?”

“Thought I was just like, special guest star or something.”

“Not for a good while now.”

“Well…whatever.” Sully cuddled a little closer to Mick. “I guess that works for me, then.”

Mick smiled. “Glad to hear it. Going to start introducing you as my boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” Sully grumbled, cutely. He was watching Cal and Travis. “Hey, does this mean I get a say on whether four people becomes six?”

“Yeah,” Mick said. He wasn’t totally sure that was going to happen, because he didn’t know that Joey or Travis could share well enough to commit to it beyond sex every so often, but it was definitely one possibility. “But speak up soon, because Cal’s got a plan on the go.”

Sully chuckled. “No kidding. I don’t have a problem with it. Do you?”

“No.” Mick smiled. “You know that the three-way thing was my suggestion originally?”

Sully lifted his head, looking up at Mick. “Really?”

“Surprised?”

“A little. Didn’t know you were that freaky.”

Mick laughed out loud, and he pulled Sully on top of him, kissing him again. “Well. Why don’t you try getting to know me a little better, then?”

Yeah, Mick was most of the way there already.


	139. Travis/Cal, Random draw, pt. 3 (nsfw, sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of Gamer's [request](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175664643888/part-three-of-gamerkun0525s-request-featuring), this time with Cal and Travis going at it!

“It’s you,” Cal said, showing Travis the piece of paper without looking at it. He’d seen Sully rig the draw, but he didn’t care. He’d known from the minute Sully had put his hand in the bowl that he’d be bottoming for someone, and that was okay. He’d gotten a lot less nervous about it lately.

It helped that Travis wasn’t that big when compared to certain other people who’d penetrated him.

Travis gave him a lopsided grin, hand on his dick. “Awesome. You’re cool with that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Cal didn’t bother moving, just pulling Travis into a kiss. “What position do you like?”

“Uh…could you lay on your belly?”

“Sure.” Cal did as he was told, tossing Travis the lube. “You ever done this before?”

“Obviously,” Travis muttered, spreading Cal’s cheeks and pouring some right onto his hole. His hand was shaking a bit.

“With someone who’s not Joey?”

“Ah. Uh. No.” Travis laughed nervously, poking at Cal’s hole now.

Cal looked over, saw Joey all but choking on Wes’s dick, and smiled. “Well he’s not nervous, so you shouldn’t be either.”

“Yeah.” Travis laughed. “Was my idea, actually. Doing stuff with you guys. He wasn’t sure at first.”

“Really?” Cal’s plan had kind of hinged on having to convince Travis. “He seems like the horny one.” Considering he was hard half the time and couldn’t keep it in his pants and all.

“He is. But he’s also super possessive.” Travis paused and slid a finger inside. Cal squirmed, but took it easily. “He wasn’t sure about the idea of sharing me. And then because of that he didn’t like the idea of him doing stuff with other guys, because he knows it’s not fair to only put it on me.”

“And you were okay with sharing him?” Cal asked, as Travis poked around, then slid a second finger inside.

“At first I wasn’t super keen, but…well he told me I could fool around with some of the guys on my baseball team sometimes, and that was super nice of him, and I told him I don’t care if he fools around with Louis, and then we figured you guys are our friends too, and…” Travis stuck a third finger in. “He likes you.”

Cal looked over his shoulder. “Really?”

“Yeah. All three of you. Four of you. And I do too. And well, we love each other enough to know that we’re still going to love each other even if we have sex with you guys, so…” Travis shrugged, pulled his fingers out. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Cal was thinking as he let Travis spread his legs. “We like you guys too, you know.”

“Obviously,” Travis said with a laugh as he climbed up Cal’s body and lined up his dick. “I definitely…think we should do…this again…” he grunted as he pushed inside Cal.

Cal nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he adjusted to Travis inside him. He was a decent size, similar to Sully. “Yeah…”

Travis got most of the way in, grabbing Cal’s hips to steady himself. “Going to go for real…”

“Go…” Cal told him, taking deep breaths as he felt himself filled, warmed from the inside. Travis fucked him a bit harder than he expected, but not too hard. He knew what he was doing and even if he didn’t, Cal was rubbing against the blanket on the floor from the motions.

He was focused on that, on the feeling inside him, and when Travis’s breath suddenly got closer on his cheek, Cal didn’t notice that until Travis kissed him, and that surprised Cal so much he came with a muffled shout, making a mess on the blanket below him.

Travis kissed him again and picked up some speed, fucking Cal for a good minute longer before he came too, pressing his naked body against Cal’s in doing so. When he was done he lay down right there, not pulling out, holding Cal from above. “I liked that.”

“Me too.”

“We should definitely do this again.” Travis smirked. “I figure you’re the guy to get onboard for that.”

Cal looked up at him, grinning, a tad dopey. “Funny, that’s what I thought about you.”

“So we can do this again? With the names in the bowl and all?”

Cal nodded. “We could also just do it without the bowl.”

Travis laughed. “That sounds fun too. Never had an orgy before.”

“Me either, technically. I think you need five people. Now we’ve got six.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Yeah.”

Travis pulled out and they lay there and cuddled together, talking and planning. Cal was very pleased with how all of this was working out. Very pleased indeed.


	140. Todd, Derek, Henry, Sam, Road Trip pt. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part [four](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175698377118/road-trip-pt-4) of the ongoing Road Trip AU, this time in Todd's POV.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Henry sang, tapping against the steering wheel.

“Oh, mamma mia, mamma mia, mamma mia let me go,” Derek sang back. “Beelzebub has a devil set aside for me, for me, for meeeee…”

“I hate both of you so much,” Sam said, as the guitar solo started up.

“Me too,” Todd agreed. They were giving him a headache. Neither of them could sing worth a damn. Well, Henry couldn’t. Derek wasn’t the worst. “I’m going to stab you so much.”

“You can’t,” Derek told him, grinning. “You’re not allowed. That’s what happens when you suck at kidnapping.”

“It was my first time!”

“And it was only me,” Derek said, snickering. He smacked his gum and looked down at his phone, checking the time. They were almost back.

“Like you could do any fucking better,” Todd grumbled, crossing his arms and looking out the window at the darkened streets. Kidnapping was fucking hard, and Derek didn’t have any appreciation for that since he’d only ever been the kidnapped party. Let him actually have to force someone into the trunk of a car and see how fucking easy it was.

Todd was going to rip his fingernails out when Henry wasn’t looking later.

Derek just shrugged, opening some stupid game and humming along to the song as he played it. It was a bad song. Todd didn’t know why Henry liked it—well he did, it was because Henry’s taste was the worst. He liked Derek, after all.

Todd liked Derek too, but for different reasons. He looked good in tears, and his face was easy to punch. He didn’t like Derek like, wanting to be friends with him or something stupid. He liked him like, he wanted to kill his dog and laugh as he cried about it.

Derek didn’t have a dog, but if he had one, Todd would kill it. And then he’d make Derek blow him for fun.

Yeah, Todd liked that.

Todd hated driving. It left him with nothing to do but sit and look out the window. His phone had died and he couldn’t steal Derek’s since Henry would get pissy, and he got carsick if he tried to read anything. Derek had done his math homework on the drive, and Todd’s was still waiting at home for him. He’d just copy Derek’s.

He’d probably have to, since Sam was probably going to want to punish him for screwing up today. How was he supposed to have known that there’d been a box cutter in the trunk? Who the fuck put a box cutter in their trunk? It was on the floor of the back seat now, actually. He kind of wanted to stab Derek with it, just for fun. He was in trouble anyway, right?

Just as Todd was about to bend over and pick up the box cutter—he wasn’t fucking afraid of Henry and Sam was buckled into the front seat—the house came into view. “We’re home,” Henry said, turning down the music.

“About fucking time,” Sam muttered, taking in a breath as they passed through the gates. “I want to change and then you and I are going to remind Todd why it’s important that he not screw up.”

“I think he knows.”

“And yet he still screwed up.”

“Wasn’t my fault,” Todd insisted.

“Keep telling yourself that, dumbass.”

Todd just glared out the window. Derek was quiet, but he looked like he wanted to laugh, so Todd punched him. “Ow!”

“Wimp.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“Why are you so stupid?”

“I get better grades than you.”

Todd punched him again. “Stop!”

“No.”

“Stop,” Henry said, looking in the rear-view mirror at Todd.

“Whatever, mom.” Todd stopped, looking away. Not because he was afraid of Henry. Just because he didn’t feel like hitting Derek again. It wasn’t worth listening to him complain.

Todd didn’t need to see Derek to know that he was sticking his tongue out.

Henry pulled them into the garage, and parked the car. Todd went to open the door. “Get all the junk out of the trunk,” Henry told Todd before he could escape. “And put it away.”

“Do I have to do anything?” Derek asked, hopeful.

“No, you’re fine.”

Derek grinned. “I’m going inside to have a bath. I still feel all gross from Todd’s stupid knots.”

Todd was going to break all his fingers.

But for now he got out of the car, glaring at Derek, and went around back to open the trunk that Henry had popped.

And saw the unconscious guy laying there, all tied up. “Uh…”

“What now?” Henry asked. “The rope goes on the shelf there, and the blankets go in the laundry. It’s not hard, Todd.”

“No…” Todd said, looking down at the guy. “When did you snatch someone else?”

“I didn’t.” Henry came around, looked down at the guy. Blinked. “Sam. What the fuck?”

“I’ve been with you the whole time, Henry.” Sam grumbled. “Who is it?”

“Some guy. I really wish you guys would stop sticking people in my car without telling me.”

“I didn’t!” Todd insisted.

Wait. If Henry hadn’t done it, and Sam hadn’t done it, and Todd hadn’t done it…

He and Henry turned at the same time at the sound of Derek’s gum smacking again. Derek was also looking at the guy curiously. “Nobody’s expecting him home for a few more hours,” he told Henry. “His phone is in the sewer and I called Benny to pick up his car. I left him his wallet in case you wanted his ID and stuff.”

He blew a bubble with his gum, filling the silence.

Sam laughed. “What do you want done with him, then, Derek?”

“Nothing, really.” Derek shrugged.

“These are good knots,” Henry said, tugging at the rope. “Good work. Even if he’d woken up he’d never get out of them.”

“Yeah.” Derek nodded. “I know. I’m going to have a bath. Bye.” And he turned and left, chewing his gum all the way.

“What the fuck, Derek?” Todd called after him. Since when was Derek good at kidnapping people? Since when was Derek good at anything? When the fuck had he even done this?

In the doorway, Derek just shrugged. “Told you it was easy.” And he shut the door, leaving the three of them in the garage with their new houseguest. 

Todd and Henry looked at the guy for a second, before Henry sighed. “Whatever. Get him down to the basement, then. We’ll figure out what to do with him later.”

“What…how am I supposed to do that?” Todd demanded, as Henry and Sam headed for the house.

“Derek managed to get him in the car,” Sam said. “And you’re the one who’s always calling him a wimp. I think you can manage to get him downstairs when he’s not even moving. And don’t forget to clean out the trunk when you’re done.”

“But…”

“If you can’t do it, we’ll just get Derek to come down and handle it for you,” Sam added, grinning. “Since it seems you could benefit from his help.”

“I…I can fucking do it!”

“Good. Don’t take forever, you still need to be punished.” And Sam went inside, followed by Henry, who shot Todd a look.

And Todd was left alone in the garage with some random guy who was such a loser that he’d been kidnapped by the biggest fucking loser Todd knew. He looked heavy.

Todd fucking hated everything about his life.


	141. Gavin/Owen, Fifty Percents Off! (kidfic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was prompted a while back to write a cute AU featuring Owen and Gavin as little tiny children, so [here](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175698641518/fifty-percents-off) it is.

The hardware store was a lie, and Gavin didn’t like it. Daddy had told him it would be a fun trip while they went to get paint, but actually it was really boring, the paint machine had been boring to look at, everything was too big and boring, and Gavin was _bored_.

So Gavin had left his parents under the supervision of the lady at the paint store and gone off to find something interesting to do. He’d wandered around the part of the store with big slabs of wood, the part of the store with lots of doors hanging on hooks, and the part of the store with little carpets, and Gavin was still bored. There was wood and doors and carpets in his house, he wanted to be in his house, his toys were there and he liked it better, he was going to get mad soon and start yelling and then he’d get in trouble but at least they’d get to go home and Gavin wanted to go _home_.

Oh. Hold on. Gavin saw something he liked. There, on the other side of all the refrigerators that didn’t have any food in them (Gavin had checked), was a big wooden platform with some washing machines on it. And in between two of the washing machines was a boy.

He had red hair, and Gavin had never met anyone with red hair before. He looked like he was about Gavin’s age, maybe a bit bigger, and he was wearing a Power Rangers shirt, which meant he was cool. And he was sleeping in between two of the washing machines.

He was in a store, which meant that Gavin could buy him.

Gavin couldn’t read that well yet but he knew numbers and a few words, and he looked up at the big sign above the platform that said “50% off” and he knew what that meant. It meant that the store was selling the stuff underneath this sign for less money than usual.

That was good. Gavin had thirteen cents in his bedroom at home. Probably that was enough for this boy. He looked like he might be used. He had drool on his face and there was something sticky, maybe a candy, on his hand. And a small stain on his shirt. But that was okay, Gavin would just give him a bath. He was clutching a blanket as he slept.

Thirteen cents was probably enough. He’d give the money to his parents when they got home. But for now, Gavin looked around. He’d seen big floors on wheels before that people were pushing stuff around on, and he went and found one and wheeled it over here carefully. Then he climbed up on the platform and hooked his arms under the sleeping boy’s armpits, and dragged him onto the cart with a thud. Gavin fell over but he didn’t cry, and he stood up and pushed the boy the rest of the way onto the cart and then smiled. There.

He carefully pushed the cart back over to the paint store, saw that his parents were still there, and turned to head for the cash registers. That was where you had to go to buy stuff.

He got in line behind an old man who was buying fifty-trazillion doorknobs and waited patiently for him to finish before rolling his cart up to the lady with the cash machine. “I wanna buy this,” he told her.

The lady looked down at him and smiled. “Well, aren’t you adorable.”

Gavin nodded. “Yes, I am.” He knew that, everyone said so. It wasn’t interesting right now. “I want to buy this,” he said, pointing at the sleeping boy. “I founded him for fifty percents off beside the washing machines. My daddy will give you some money and I’ll pay him back when we get home.”

“Uh…” The lady held up a finger and picked up her phone. “Could I have Debra at cash six? Debra at cash six. Thank you.”

Gavin tapped his foot impatiently. This lady was supposed to sell things to him. That was her job. Gavin understood what her job was, why didn’t she? “I wanna buy this boy,” he repeated, since she hadn’t heard him.

“The thing is, young man, we don’t sell little boys at this store,” the lady told him.

“Well I founded him beside the washing machines,” Gavin explained, quite patiently, tapping his foot so hard that his shoe was lighting up. “For fifty percents off. So you’re selling him. And I wanna buy him. Please and thank you.” He’d forgotten to say that before. Maybe that was why she hadn’t let him the first time. Gavin had forgotten to be polite.

“Listen, little guy…”

“Gavin? What are you doing?”

Gavin turned around when he heard his mommy’s voice, beaming. She’d help him. “Hi mommy! I found this boy and I’m gonna buy him. He’s on sale!”

Mommy blinked at Gavin, looked at the boy on the cart, then at the cash lady. “I see. Have you asked his parents if you can buy him, dear?”

Gavin’s face contorted into a bit of a scowl. Mommy was using that voice. The mommy voice where she was about to say no. “He doesn’t have parents. He’s in a store.”

“Well, he probably just wandered away from his parents just like you did. And they probably want him back, Gavin.”

“But…” Gavin sniffed.

“I’ve sent someone to look for his parents,” the cash lady said to mommy. “They should be here soon.”

“But…”

“Thank you,” mommy said to the cash lady. She turned back to Gavin. “Gavin, when you find a lost boy you should tell an adult right away, okay?”

“But…” Gavin was going to cry. He knew that he shouldn’t because he was a big boy, but he was allowed to cry if it was important and this was important.

“What’s going on?” Daddy came over to join mommy with cans of paint in his hands.

“Your son decided he was going to buy a boy he found on sale.”

Daddy looked over at the sleeping boy, then at Gavin, looking like he might laugh. “Gavin, I’m sure he’s very nice, but you’re not allowed to buy people. There was a whole thing about it before you were born, it’s against the law.”

“But…but he’s on sale!” Gavin insisted, tears starting to fall now. He stomped his foot. “He’s fifty percents off, and it’s not fair! You made me come all the way to the stupid store so you could get stupid paint for the stupid house and I just wanna buy one thing and it’s not that expensive and you’re all being so _mean_ , you never buy me _anything_ , we have a big huge house and you wouldn’t even know he was _there_ , why are you being _so mean_ …”

“Hey…” A little voice from behind him broke Gavin out of his tantrum, and he turned around to see the on-sale boy sitting up, rubbing at his eyes. He looked at Gavin. “Why are you crying? Don’t cry.”

“B-but…”

The boy stood up, got off the cart, and came to give Gavin a hug. “It’s okay. Was someone mean to you? I can beat them up if you want. I’m a knight. That’s kind of like a superhero but with a sword. Do you want a candy?” He fished into his pocket and pulled out a little candy in a wrapper, which he pushed into Gavin’s hand. “That will make you feel better.”

It did make Gavin feel better, and he hadn’t even eaten it yet. He took it out of the wrapper and put it in his mouth, hugging the boy again. “Thank you…I tried to buy you…but my parents said I can’t…”

“Oh.” The boy looked over at Gavin’s parents, and then all around. “Did you ask my parents?”

“You have parents?” Gavin asked.

“Course I do, silly! They’re right there.” The boy pointed at a man and a lady coming over quickly.

“There you are, Owen. I told you not to wander off,” the man said.

“I didn’t, daddy,” Owen said, crossing his arms. “You were looking at ovens for a million years, even though they all look the same! So I went to go to sleep and then this boy tried to buy me but his mommy and daddy said no.”

Owen’s daddy looked at Gavin. “You tried to buy him, did you?”

Gavin nodded, wiping his eyes. He felt better now. “The sign said he was fifty percents off.”

Owen’s daddy laughed, then he looked up at Gavin’s parents. “Well, that sounds like the free market at work to me.”

“We don’t usually sell our kids on the free market,” daddy said.

“Sure we do, we just call it education.”

Gavin had no idea what they were talking about, but he took Owen’s hand. “So can I have him? Please? I’ll take super good care of him!”

Owen looked at him. “I’m not a dog!”

Gavin blinked at him. “Okay.” He didn’t see the point.

“How about we be friends instead?” Owen suggested. “Then we can play.”

Gavin thought about that. It wasn’t as good as just having Owen to be his, but…maybe it was okay. “Okay,” he said. Plus, he’d get to keep his thirteen cents for something else. He hugged Owen. “We can be friends!”

“Tell you what,” mommy said, glancing over at Owen’s parents. “How about we let Owen come over to our house and play for a while?”

Gavin felt himself fly. “Yeah! Come over, Owen! I’ll show you my house!” And once Owen was there, Gavin could find an empty bedroom somewhere that he could live in.

“Can I, mommy?” Owen asked, holding Gavin’s hand.

“Are you sure it’s alright?” Owen’s mommy asked. “We don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense,” mommy said. “It’s fine. And our Gavin has already formed an attachment, after all. We’ll return him to you in one piece, not to worry.”

“Okay, then.” Owen’s mommy smiled at them. “You can go.”

“Yay!” Owen hugged Gavin again, which made Gavin smile. Their parents talked about some boring stuff like addresses and phone numbers, but Gavin wasn’t listening, he was already planning the adventure that he was going to have with his new knight.

Now that Gavin had gotten what he wanted, he wasn’t ever going to let it go.


	142. Isaac, Bonus Boss (RPG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone [suggested](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/175699242593/i-cant-possibly-be-the-only-one-who-wants-to-see) that I should continue the Isaac in a Sexy RPG AU from a while back, so here's a second chapter of that!

Isaac hated missing sidequests.

What was more annoying than trekking back to an area he’d cleared ages ago, just for the nostalgia, and being asked to fulfill an errand that he should have done when he was here the first time? It meant he had to get his team ready, get them all equipped, buff up, all so he could go up into the mountains and collect mushrooms.

Okay, well he didn’t need to buff and equip, but that was the fun part. He hadn’t bothered plugging himself, just letting the cum dribble down his legs as he walked. He’d have a bath when they got back to the inn in town.

“That’s the last of them,” James said, as Isaac plucked his last mushroom. His skill with plants had really helped speed up what could have been even more tedious than it ended up being. Normally for easier stuff Isaac would bring some of his weaker party members, but for something like this there was no point in even doing that, the experience he gained fighting little birds and imps wasn’t going to help anyone, so he was just powering through it with his stronger guys.

“Thanks,” Isaac told James, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hey, boss?”

Isaac turned, looked at Edwin. “Ed, I told you not to call me that…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Edwin nodded at the hill leading up into the mountains. “This hill isn’t on the map.”

“Sure it is,” Isaac said, joining him and taking a look. “I made sure to map this whole area when I was here the first…time.” But Edwin was right. “Huh.”

“Should we go up?”

“I guess so.”

So they went up, looking around. Isaac tasked Edwin with filling in the map as they went, but it was just a single hill, leading ever upwards. “I don’t like this,” Owen muttered, looking around. “It’s too obvious. We didn’t miss it the first time.”

“You think it opened up after we left?” Isaac asked.

Owen nodded. “There might be something up here. And…you know what lives in these mountains, right?”

“Dragons,” Isaac said, nodding. He paused. “It looks like we’re getting to the top of the hill, maybe we should buff up just in case there’s a battle up there.”

The guys all nodded and dropped their stuff, lining up behind Isaac. This wasn’t the best team to fight a dragon, not with James and Pax in the group, but Owen gave him a huge resistance to dragons and his attacks were super effective against them, so it was probably fine.

He got them all to fuck him just in case, and Owen went twice just for the extra buff. Then Isaac plugged himself with a plug that put his fire resistance up, just in case, and changed around the vibrators he had in a few of them to optimize what he had for the fight that might be coming.

And then he climbed up the rest of the hill, as prepared as he was going to be for what might be up there.

They got to a cave, and Isaac checked his potions and stuff. It was probably fine. He peeked in. “Pax?”

“Yeah.” Pax had a skill that let him analyse stuff, so he used it on the cave. “There’s a dragon in there, and a human. It…It looks like the dragon is buffing the human, right now.”

Isaac peered in and sure enough, there was a little dragon with grey horns pounding into a human guy. “They’re…strong,” Pax said. “We shouldn’t fight them, it’s not a good…”

“Too late,” Isaac muttered, when the dragon looked right up at them, grinned. “We’re not getting away now.”

“No, you aren’t,” the dragon said, giving one last thrust into his human and then pulling out. Isaac stepped around the corner, facing him head on. He was…big. Isaac bet he could give big buffs with that thing. “I’m Joey and you’re in my house.”

“We’re fucked,” Pax muttered.

Isaac hoped so, but he shook his head. “We can win. I’m Isaac, Joey. Any chance we could be friends?”

Joey roared, dropping into a fighting stance.

Isaac smirked, waving Owen to stand behind him. “That’s what they all say at first. Prepare to be recruited, dragon boy.”


	143. Sam, Nature is Awful (sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing nsfw in this one except for a lot of horrifying nature facts.

The [prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/177434170688/finally-filling-that-request-that-i-got-ages-and) I got for this one was Sam trying to scare people away with squicky nature facts and getting outgunned by someone else. I put it in the context of the sleepover so he could have a choice of who to interact with. 

\---

“There are some species of lizards who defend themselves by squirting blood out of their eyes.”

Sam had developed a strategy for making people leave him alone at the sleepover.

“Meerkats kill each other’s babies to make sure that their offspring survive.”

Because people couldn’t seem to help but bother him, thinking that sitting alone meant he wanted someone to talk to him.

“One species of poisonous frog is so small that you could easily step on it without seeing it…and die because it only takes one touch. There could be one in your shoe, or on your shoulder, or anywhere…right…now…”

All he had to do was spout some random fact about animals that people found off-putting and they went away pretty quickly. It was a foolproof strategy for a room full of fools.

Until it didn’t work. Someone came and sat down right next to Sam. “Hi,” he said. “You seem to have scared everyone away.”

Sam sighed. “Sharks don’t chew,” he said. “They just rip parts off of you and swallow them whole—most people who get attacked by sharks actually bleed to death pretty slowly, because blood doesn’t clot properly in water.”

The boy beside him snorted. “Big deal. Cows kill more people than sharks.”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“You heard me. And did you know that cows everywhere graze facing the same direction? That’s kind of spooky. Way scarier than some stupid fish that doesn’t even taste good. I’m Hugh.”

“I…black widow spiders kill their mates and eat them after sex,” Sam said, unsure.

“Yeah, everyone knows that. Housecats like to go on killing sprees when they’re let outdoors, they maim and murder rodents and birds in the dozens daily, just for fun. Then they come home for pets.”

“Housecats?”

“It’s really the cute animals you have to watch out for,” Hugh said, obviously not disturbed like he was meant to be. “You know a lot of species of birds will kill their siblings in the nest so they can have more food? And birds are adorable.”

“I’d never noticed,” Sam said dryly. Though Derek had been nattering about some cute birds the other day. Sam would have to tell him about the sibling murder. That would ruin his whole day.

“Mm-hm. Moose too. They’ll gore you. Yet nobody thinks they’re dangerous.”

“Well..” Sam wracked his brain. He had to top that to make Hugh go away. Time to pull out the big guns. “The cordyceps fungus,” he said. “takes over the brains of ants and enslaves them. And it leaves their central nervous systems intact while it’s happening so they remain aware.”

“Yeah,” Hugh said, excited. “I have some awesome pictures of…well, I guess you don’t care about pictures. They made a cool video game about that a while ago, though, where it like mutates and turns everyone into zombies.”

Jesus, Sam thought, what was this kid’s problem? “The ichneumon wasp lays eggs inside other insects and then the offspring…”

“Burrow their way out and consume them, yeah,” Hugh said. He sounded so happy.

“The bot fly,” Sam said, pulling out all the stops. “The boy fly does the same thing, but to humans. They’ve found maggots inside living people’s brains.”

“That’s so badass,” Hugh said, sighing a little. “God nature is awesome. Dolphins are my favourite, though.”

“Dolphins?” Sam asked, sneering. What the hell do dolphins do? They’re just clowns in water.”

Hugh snorted, patting Sam’s hand. “Go swimming with some and see. They like to ram porpoises to death, just like, gang up on one and beat it until it dies.”

“What…”

“Oh, and they kill each other’s babies. Which is hilarious, since they also sometimes gang-rape each other so who knows who the babies belong to? Oh, and sometimes they get horny and decide to hit on human divers…emphasis on the hit. Don’t fuck with dolphins, they’ll fuck back.”

Sam frowned, then heard that, then giggled. It was funny. “I’m Sam.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hugh said, leaning closer. Sam found he didn’t mind the company. “Let’s talk about snakes.”


	144. Edwin/Leo, Owen/Gavin, contest (nsfw, sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a jerk-off contest with high stakes, nothing out of the ordinary here.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/177434210658/can-i-request-some-owen-and-gavin-being-snarky-and): "Can I request some Owen and Gavin being snarky and sexy at the sleepover? :D And also maybe some Edwin and Leo? Thanks!" by an anon, for my [100 followers celebration](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/174553719083). 

\---

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Owen said, voice hitching.

“You’re the one getting an awesome handjob,” Gavin reminded him.

“Y-yeah…it is awesome…but you’re enjoying it too much.”

“I can’t have fun when giving the guy I love a wristy?”

“I just don’t think you should be so excited about putting your boyfriend in the middle of a gangbang.”

“Oh, shut up. You love it. And Edwin and Leo are hardly a gang.”

Edwin listened to Owen and Gavin go back and forth with half an ear, trying to distract himself from Leo’s hand on his cock. He didn’t want to cum, as much as it would be nice. They had an agreement, the four of them. Edwin and Owen got jerked off by their respective partners, and whoever came first lost, and whoever lost got fucked by everyone else.

It had been Gavin’s idea.

Edwin was reclined in Leo’s lap, Leo kissing and nipping his neck and shoulders as he stroked Edwin hard inside his boxers. He was just glad it wasn’t Erik, because Edwin would have blown long ago if it had been and that would suck. “Focus, Ed,” Leo muttered, between kisses. “You’re leaking. You trying to lose?”

“I’m focusing…” Edwin whinged. “It’s hard with you touching me like that.” Leo was too good at this, it wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have Gavin on his cock. Gavin looked like he was bad at handjobs.

“Them’s the rules, friend.” Leo said with a smirk. “Besides, I’d be fine if you lost. And you would be too. All these people…”

“Don’t make it worse!” They were just on the floor in the middle of the sleepover. A few people were watching them idly, in the way that you watched people jerk each other off at an orgy.

Leo snickered, giving a flick of his wrist and making Edwin gasp. “You don’t want to think about how many people might watch you take three cocks in a row?”

“Leo!”

Another laugh. “Okay, okay,” he said, tongue brushing Edwin’s jaw. “Just focus on the least sexy thing in the room.”

Edwin nodded, looking around. Well, there was Ty getting spitroasted by two guys, so that was out. And there was Isaac, amassing a small lineup. And over there was a jerk-off contest, and there were five guys sucking each other in a daisy chain, and…

This was a weird sleepover. Edwin was loving it, honestly.

Fortunately he had a trump card. The least sexy thing in the room, one thing that was guaranteed to kill any sex drive he’d ever had, no question.

Edwin let his eyes land on Owen and Gavin.

Owen was laying across Gavin’s lap, shorts around his knees as Gavin jerked him off with one hand, playing with Owen’s nipples in the other. He was flushed, some precum beading at his cockhead. He was clearly having a good time.

“You’re about to blow…” Gavin was saying to Owen.

“Am not…I can do this all night…”

“Sure you can. Being known for your stamina.”

“I’m starting to think you want me to lose.”

“Of course I do,” Gavin said with a smile. “Who wouldn’t want their boyfriend to lose this particular game?”

“You’re supposed to be looking at something unsexy,” Leo whispered in Edwin’s ear. “Not ogling your two little crushes.”

“They’re not…ah…” Edwin had to tense to fight back a wave of pleasure. “Ew.”

“You’re trying to lose, aren’t you?” Leo teased. “You want them both to fuck you.”

“Do not. Nobody wants them to…ah…Jesus, Leo…”

“Somebody’s about to win a one-way ticket on the anal express…”

Edwin blinked, then snorted with laughter, unable to help himself. “That’s terrible, Leo, never say that again.”

“Fuck!” Edwin’s attention was brought back to Owen, who was arching his back and spraying cum all up his chest. Gavin was just grinning triumphantly.

Edwin just sat there for a second, Leo’s hand frozen on his erection, watching Owen make his mess. And he grinned, looking at Leo. “We won!”

Leo kissed Edwin’s cheek. “I honestly didn’t think you could do it. Good job.”

Edwin giggled, rubbing Leo’s thigh. “Help me out of these shorts.”

“Hear that?” Gavin asked, leaning down and speaking in Owen’s ear, but loudly enough that Edwin could hear. “See how eager Edwin is for his prize? Spread your legs, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Owen grumbled, doing as he was told, panting and leaning into Gavin a little.

It made Edwin feel bad to interrupt. But only a little. Leaking cock leading the way, Edwin headed for his prize.

He was having a lot of fun at this sleepover.


	145. Ron, James, Science!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings here except for me trying to be funny and probably failing.

[Prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/177434250273/you-should-write-something-funny-about-birds): "You should write something funny about birds flying straight through glass and someone experimenting about how to stop this. Like James and then Ron is watching and Owen is asking Ron why James is even bothering. And Gavin is fascinated or something xD Modern AU so it can be all science-y!" by Isananna on Tumblr. 

\---

“Hm.”

“Anything?”

“Not really.”

“That sucks.”

“I could do magic.”

“Magic isn’t real.”

“But do birds know that?”

“I think birds know that magic isn’t real, James,” Ron said, sighing.

“Hm,” James said, arms crossed as he frowned at the big windows of the Gladstone Building. “We can ask the next one that rams full-speed into this horrible monstrosity.”

“It is kind of ugly,” Owen agreed from behind Ron, sipping a Coke. He’d found them in their second hour here and wandered over, and was now mostly hanging out with them to laugh as James puzzled out how to make birds stop flying into glass. “Not to mention a huge waste of money.”

“Don’t fucking start with me,” Gavin threatened. As far as Ron could tell, he was here to pick on Owen and laugh at the rest of them. They had some sort of ongoing argument about this building that had something to do with Gavin’s dad and taxes.

“Maybe if we tinted the windows,” James mused, looking at the glass, ignoring the others. “But lots of buildings have tinted windows and birds still fly into them. Dammit.” As he spoke, another bird collided with the side of the building, but it flew away erratically, not dead.

“Why is he even bothering with this?” Owen asked Ron.

Ron shrugged. “He cares about birds.”

“There must be some sort of colouring we can put in glass that will make it visible to birds at a distance,” James said, tapping his foot. “I mean, we could just stop putting up skyscrapers, but since capitalism isn’t going to stop doing that, I think we need a different solution.”

“Do you have one, or…”

James shook his head. “I want you to take me to the store. I’m going to buy different kinds of dyes and paints and try them on different glasses to see if that helps. We’ll need paper and a pen too so we can record the results.”

“The only difference between science and fucking around is writing it down, after all,” Gavin teased.

“Exactly,” James agreed, possibly missing the sarcasm. “If we can solve the problem we can save lots of birds.”

“You should feel free to experiment by painting the glass on this building,” Owen told him helpfully. “It’s not like it can get any uglier.”

“Listen, you…”

“Let’s go,” James said to Ron, heading for the car.

Ron followed after him, prepared to spend the day searching for paint in the name of science.


	146. Fifty Bucks and a Blowjob (Owen/Gavin, Fake Dating AU)

“I’ll give you fifty dollars and a blowjob if you pretend to be my boyfriend for a few hours.” 

Owen blinked, looking up from his fries to see a blonde guy in a polo shirt standing over him, looking very serious. “Sorry?”

“You heard me,” the blonde guy said. “I need a date for a thing. I’ll give you fifty bucks.”

The guy, Owen thought, was pretty hot, as far as guys went. He probably didn’t need to buy a date. “And a blowjob?”

The guy smirked. “Yeah, and a blowjob. Should have opened with that. You in?”

Owen had never had a blowjob before. And he could use fifty bucks. So he shrugged, eating another fry. “Sure. Where are we going?”

“Renata’s,” the guy told him. “Come on, come with me.”

“My lunch…”

“We’re having lunch, dumbass, it’s a restaurant.” 

It was, indeed, a restaurant. A fancy-ass one, if Owen remembered right. Nice. “I don’t have to pay for the lunch, right?” Because he definitely couldn’t afford that.

“No, my parents are paying, come _on_ ,” the guy said, pulling Owen from his plastic chair. So Owen abandoned his mall french fries and let the guy drag him out of the food court. 

“Okay, okay,” Owen said, as the guy dragged him away. “Why do you need a fake boyfriend?”

“My parents keep trying to convince me to marry girls. I told them I was gay and now they’re just trying to make me marry guys instead and I don’t want to get with some random just because his parents are rich,” the guy explained. “So I may have accidentally told them I had a boyfriend and now they want to meet him because they think I’m full of shit.”

“But…you are full of shit?”

“No,” the guy said, pulling Owen towards a fancy clothes store. “I am not, because you’re my boyfriend now and you love me with depths that your gorilla-like frame would not suggest possible.” 

“Hey,” Owen said, frowning. “No need to be rude.”

“You’ll get used to it.” The guy waved someone from the store over. “He needs a suit. Off the rack is fine. Measure him, please.” 

“Of course. Arms out, if you don’t mind, sir.” 

“Uh…” Owen put his arms out. “Do I really need a suit?”

“Yes. Everyone should own a suit anyway, why don’t you have one?”

“I do!” Owen protested. It was one of his dad’s old ones, he’d worn it to his aunt’s wedding last year. He even had a tie to go with it. “I just don’t carry it around with me when I’m at the mall!”

“Well, that’s an oversight,” the guy sighed, watching the store employee measure Owen’s arms impatiently. “I don’t suppose this can go any faster?”

“Jesus,” Owen said, as the employee looked up. “Let the guy do his job.” 

Owen’s new boyfriend rolled his eyes. “Fine. When he’s done measuring you, go in the dressing room and take off your clothes. I’ll bring you something to wear.” 

“Uh…okay?” But he was already wandering off, looking at ties. “Sorry about him,” Owen said to the poor guy measuring his waist. “He’s a bit stressed.” And a bit entitled. Why was Owen defending this guy?

“It’s fine, sir, spread your legs a bit, please?”

Owen put up with letting the guy measure him, then when he was done, headed off to the dressing room, taking off his shirt and shoes, unbuttoning his jeans. 

As he was sliding them down, the door opened and the blonde guy came in with an armful of stuff. “I told you to take off you clothes, God.”

“I did!” Owen protested, resisting the urge to cover up. “Don’t you knock?”

“I warned you I was coming, and where I’m from socks and underwear count as clothes. Off.” 

“But…”

“ _Off_ ,” the guy ordered, glaring at Owen. He dumped a bunch of clothes on the bench and tossed a pair of fancy black boxers at Owen. “There, if you’re so worried about it. Though how you’re supposed to get a blowjob if you’re afraid to drop…”

“I’m going, I’m going, Jesus,” Owen said, dropping his boxers—which there was nothing wrong with, they didn’t even have any holes in them, taking his socks off without breaking eye contact with the guy just to prove that he didn’t give a damn. It was just like a locker room. 

Though usually he didn’t get guys in the locker room openly staring at him. And kind of blushing. “Like what you see?”

“You’re okay,” the guy said, tossing the boxers at Owen. “Get dressed.”

And then he started taking off his own clothes. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed,” the guy said. “Undressed. To the goal of getting re-dressed.”

“There was nothing wrong with your clothes.”

“I know. They don’t match yours,” the guy explained, shirt hitting the floor. He was more muscular than he looked. “We have to compliment each other.”

Owen blinked. “You’re pretty.”

The guy blinked too, blushing again. “I know. So are you.”

“Thanks. Uh. Is that enough complimenting each other, or…”

“You…” The guy shut his eyes, then smacked Owens’ chest, snorting with laughter. “That’s not what I fucking meant, you dunce. I meant our clothes.”

“Clothes can’t compliment you?” It wasn’t supposed to be a question, but a question it was.

“Just get dressed, you Neanderthal.” 

Owen glared, but stepped into his new boxers. They were made of something soft. It felt kind of nice on his junk. Maybe he’d switch if they weren’t super expensive. “You know,” he said, as he took the pants thrown at him, “if you were less of a douche you might not need to buy a boyfriend.” 

“Whatever, I’m rich and pretty,” the guy said, standing there in his underwear and grabbing a shirt from the pile. 

He was definitely that second thing. Owen hadn’t really ever thought about boys as pretty before, but well. He’d kiss this guy, he figured. “Hey, how come you don’t have to change underwear?”

“Because there’s nothing wrong with my underwear.” 

“There was nothing wrong with mine!”

“They have a hockey team logo on them.” 

“What…are you parents going to strip search me?”

“Not risking it.” The guy paused, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Here.” He dropped his boxer briefs for a minute, flashing Owen. 

Owen looked at him, smiling. “Nice.”

“Shut up.” They came back up and the guy started dressing. “Hurry, we’re going to be late.”

“You waited until the last minute to get a fake boyfriend?” Owen asked, buttoning up his pants.

“You know, I have enough problems in my life, okay? You’re my fake boyfriend, you’re supposed to be on my side.” 

It was Owen’s turn to roll his eyes. “Fine.” 

“Okay. So here’s the story. We met at one of your sports games. You play sports, don’t you?”

“Football. You could tell?”

“Yes. I went to go see the game and met you afterwards and you asked me out to dinner.”

“That’s very romantic of me.”

“Yes, it is,” the guy agreed. “We had pizza. Then we started dating. This was three weeks ago. We’ve been seeing each other on the weekends since then. We went to go see Venom last night.”

“I haven’t seen that yet,” Owen said.

“It’s boring, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Because we made out for the whole thing?” That seemed like something they would do. 

“No. _No_. God, no.” The guy glared at him, buttoning up his shirt. “No. Peck on the cheek when I dropped you off at home.”

Oh. Well that was disappointing. “I get to ogle you in a changing room but not kiss you?”

“Shut up. We have not had any kind of sex unless you want my parents to stab you with a salad fork.”

“Not even a blowjob after lunch?”

“If you breathe literally a word of that I’ll fake-break up with you at the table, I swear.”

He did seem like the dramatic type of guy to do that. “Lips sealed.”

“I fucking hope so.”

“Just like yours won’t be later.”

“You’re on really thin ice here and the fact that I don’t have time to find another fake boyfriend is the only reason why I’m not fake-dumping you here.” The guy effortlessly tied his tie, pulling on his suit jacket, before sighing at Owen. “You misbuttoned your shirt, you dumbass.”

“I…” Owen looked down. “Was distracted.”

“Jesus.” The guy batted his hands away and rebuttoned Owen’s shirt, then tied the tie on him. “I’m just assuming you don’t know how to do this,” he muttered as he did. 

“Whatever, it’s not an important life skill,” Owen muttered. “I thought you said they had to be the same colour.”

“No, I said they had to compliment each other.” Owen was wearing blue to the other guy’s purple, and there were traces of purple in Owen’s suit. 

He had to admit, they looked pretty killer. 

“How did you find all this so fast?”

“I know how clothes work. There, let’s go.” 

“Wait, don’t we have to…”

“I already paid, come on,” the guy said, dragging Owen along and barely giving him time to grab their other clothes before pulling him right out of the store. Owen waved at the employees, who were probably fucking grateful they were leaving. Though this guy had probably just spent an ungodly amount of money in there, so there was that. 

They went right out of the mall, and Owen was pulled by the hand across the parking lot. “My car is over…”

“You definitely drive something that I’m not going to let my parents see,” the guy told him, fishing out some keys and beeping an expensive sportscar open. “I’ll drive.”

Owen looked at the car, suddenly thinking this might be worth it. “I’ll drive.”

“I just said…”

“New condition.” 

The guy glared at him, but rolled his eyes. “Fine. You know where it is?”

“It’s like three blocks from here.” 

“Fine.” He got in the passenger seat, tossing their discarded clothes in the wheelwell. Owen got behind the wheel and brought the car to life, smiling. Wicked. The guy smirked at him. “Someone’s turned on.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll blow you in that driver’s seat when we survive lunch.”

Owen blushed, pulling out of the parking spot. “I’m starting to think that you’re actually only in this for the blowjob. You know you could just give me one, I wouldn’t complain.”

“No. You’re going to work for it. Now. I’m third from the top of my class but it’s because my English teacher hates me, I’m afraid of spiders, I don’t eat eggplant unless it’s on pizza, I’ve played soccer since middle school, I’ve always wanted a pet dog but never had one, I spent last summer in Berlin and learned German, and I secretly listen to Madonna.” 

“Uh. Okay?”

“Just…drop that stuff into casual conversation, okay? Make it seem like we’ve known each other for more than a half hour. Now you.”

“Well…” Owen said, as he took advantage of the car’s objective sexiness to swerve around a Honda. “I’ve played football since I was a kid, I’m a centre guard, my parents own a bed and breakfast where I help out, I broke my arm as a kid because I jumped off the roof to impress my cousin, I’m scared of storms and sometimes I camp in my backyard because I like sleeping outside.” 

The guy nodded. “Okay. I can work with that. I’ll make up anything else, just go along with it. And don’t fucking make things up about me, my parents will know.”

“I should hope so,” Owen muttered, swinging into the parking lot of the restaurant and wishing that they could have eaten somewhere farther away. Oh well, he’d drive home too. “We’re here.”

“Okay. Just. Be polite and agree with everything they say. You’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.”

Owen chuckled as he parked, and looked over, struck with the sudden urge to kiss him. “It’ll be fine. Best behaviour.”

“Shut up.” 

They got out of the car, Owen fiddling with his tie as they headed for the front doors. 

And he held the door for his fake boyfriend, grabbing his arm as he went in. “Hold on.”

Owen looked at him. “Something you forgot to tell me about yourself.”

“What? I told you all the important shit, it’s just a lunch, God. Come on, we’re late.”

“What’s your name?”

The guy stood there, blinking, colour rising in his face. “Oh. Oops. Gavin.”

“Hi, Gavin,” Owen said, following him into the restaurant. “I’m Owen. Nice to meet you.” He leaned in and kissed Gavin on the cheek. “Come on, love,” he said, walking with Gavin towards the back. “We’re late.”


	147. Paths Not Taken (Dragon/Friend character switch)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If two people had taken different turns at an earlier point in their lives.

There was a cave up ahead. Owen gripped his sword, too excited to be nervous. That had to be it! It had ‘dragon cave’ written all over it. 

So had the last ten, but this time he was sure. 

He hurried forward, then flattened his back against the outer wall, peering into the cave. It was mostly just dark. The dragon was probably sleeping somewhere inside.

It wasn’t very heroic to kill the dragon in its sleep, Owen reflected. The princess might not think it was that impressive.

He had a lot invested in the princess thinking he was impressive. 

His pants were really tight, holy shit.

But soon that wouldn’t be a problem ever again. Owen was so excited. He was going to slay a dragon and become a knight and lose his virginity all in one day! 

That last thing was, arguably, the most important. He felt like, after his whole life, being a virgin wasn’t working out. He’d given it a fair shot, and his hand was super nice and pillows were soft and everything. But Owen was ready for a girl instead. 

It was going to be so awesome when he went in there and killed the dragon and told the princess “you’re safe now.” She was going to think he was so cool! And then she’d start to take off his armour, and…

Owen shifted. Maybe he should go in now. 

So he did, sword out, shield up, doing a cool little roll to get inside and standing, looking around. “Dragon!” he called out. “My name’s Owen, and I’m here to slay you for your evil deeds! Return the princess and submit to your punishment!”

It was a good speech. He’d practiced it.

But no dragon emerged, just like the last few times he’d given it. Owen sighed. “Dragon!” he called. “Don’t be a coward. Fight me like a man! Or like a dragon, I guess. Or like something. Come on.”

No dragon continued to emerge. 

Owen sighed, arms drooping. “Dammit,” he muttered. “How hard can it be to find one dragon?”

“Um…” a voice called out, and Owen jumped, raising his sword again. There was someone here! Maybe it was the princess after all!

But it wasn’t, it was a boy. A horned, naked boy who was moving out from behind a rock. He had a tail, too. “Did…were you looking for a specific dragon, or…”

Owen…wasn’t sure what to do. A lot of things he’d expected, but all of them had been a dragon and none of them had been a naked boy. “Yes?” he asked. “I was looking, uh. For the dragon who kidnapped the princess.” 

The boy frowned, rubbing his eyes. “You woke me up for that? Nobody’s kidnapped a princess.”

“But a dragon did,” Owen insisted. “I heard about it. Stole her right from the castle. I’m here to slay him.”

“Well. If all you want to do is slay a dragon, then go away,” the boy said. “Because that’s not very nice.” 

“Well…” Owen frowned, looking at his sword. “I guess not. But kidnapping someone isn’t nice either.”

The boy shrugged. “Maybe she was pretty. Dragons like things that are pretty.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can just take them!”

“Yes it does,” the boy said with a nod. “I’m a dragon so I’d know.”

“You don’t look like a dragon. You’re kind of short.”

The boy-dragon glared at him, tail moving behind him. “You don’t know anything. And put that sword down. If you try to slay me I’ll bite you.”

Owen sighed, putting his sword down. He was here to kill a real dragon, a big one. Not a naked boy with horns stuck to his head. “Sorry. Do you know where the dragon who kidnapped her is? I’m trying to rescue her.”

“No. And I wouldn’t tell you anyway.” The boy continued to glare. “Why do you care about rescuing some dumb princess anyway? Do you know her?”

“No, I just…” Owen put his sword away, shrugged. “Nevermind. I’ll just go.”

“Hold on,” the dragon boy said, coming over and grabbing Owen’s wrist. “You can stay if you’re not going to try and stab me.” 

“Well…”

“We can be friends!” 

“I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to rescue the princess.”

“I’m more interesting than a dumb princess,” the dragon assured him. “I can do anything she can do but I’m also a dragon, so it’s better.”

“Not anything she can do,” Owen muttered. His pants were really tight. 

“Yeah, right. Name one thing.” 

“Uh…anyway, what’s your name?”

The boy gurgled off a list of sounds.

“Can…I call you Joey?”

Joey rolled his eyes. “If my name is too hard for you, I guess.”

“Cool. I’m Owen.”

“Can I call you dumbass?”

“Only if you want to get beat up.”

“You can try.” Joey grinned competitively. “If I win, you have to stay here and be my friend!”

Owen glared. “Okay, but if I win you have to tell me where the dragon who kidnapped the princess is.”

“Deal!”

And Joey jumped on him, knocking him over, clearly trying to wrestle Owen into submission. Owen fought back, thinking this might be a bad idea given his pants situation, but at the same time not seeing a real reason to stop. 

Owen won, but he ended up staying anyway. 

\---

Everything about this was so cool. Travis was having an awesome time exploring the mountains, looking for dragons to befriend. 

He wished he could find one, though. He was running out of food, and also this insane hill was killing his legs. 

But at the top of it there was another cave. He’d seen it yesterday, and more importantly, unlike all the other caves in the area, he’d seen a dragon fly out of it. 

It had been the coolest thing Travis had ever seen.

And it was going to be even cooler when he got to see it up close! Travis was kept from just lying down here on the hill because of that very thing. He was going to get to see a dragon up super close and then he was going to make friends with it and it was going to be amazing. 

Travis crested the hill all at once and he gasped for air, his body so happy that he wasn’t climbing anymore. He was never climbing again. Never, ever. Which, since he was basically at the top of the world, shouldn’t be a problem. 

After he was done resting, though, Travis got up, determined. The cave was big, and he stepped inside it, looking around. There were piles of gold and treasure and stuff, but Travis didn’t care about that. He took a breath. “Hello?” he called. “Mister or Missus dragon? Are you home?”

There was no corresponding growl, so maybe they weren’t home. “Dammit,” Travis muttered, sighing. Well, he knew that a dragon lived here. So he’d just wait until it came back, that was all. 

“Hello?”

Travis looked up at the sound of a voice, and there, coming around from one of the piles of gold, was a person. Blonde and dressed in fancy clothes, he looked kind of confused. “Hi!” Travis said. “Um. I guess the dragon isn’t home?”

“Not at the moment,” the boy said, peering at Travis. “Are…you here to rescue me?”

“No?” Travis asked. “Do…you need rescuing?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “I’m Prince Gavin. The dragon kidnapped me. I…just assumed you were here to get me.”

“Oh.” Travis felt a bit bad. “Well. Not really? I heard a princess got kidnapped, and people were going to kill dragons, and I kind of wanted to be friends with one, you know? So I came to be friends with the dragon so it wouldn’t have to kidnap people anymore.”

Gavin kind of looked at him. “You came to…be friends with the dragon.”

“Yeah.” Travis nodded. “Also. You’re not a princess.”

“Astute,” Gavin said. “It did not kidnap my sister. It kidnapped me. Probably because I’m prettier. Anyway, let’s go.”

“Go…where?”

“Outside, away from the dragon,” Gavin said, slowly. “Before it comes back and doesn’t let us leave.”

“But…I wanted to meet it!”

“Yeah…it’s either going to eat you or not let you leave,” Gavin explained. “Come on.”

“You don’t know that!” Travis insisted, moving out of Gavin’s range when Gavin tried to grab his arm. “It might be friendlier than you think!”

“It kidnapped me and knocked over part of my house.”

“Right. But that might just be because it’s lonely, did you ever think of that?”

“Okay,” Gavin said, taking a breath. “Listen. What’s your name?”

“Travis.” Belatedly, Travis realized he was talking to a prince. “Your Highness.”

Gavin nodded. “Listen, Travis. I’ve been stuck here for two weeks eating burnt goat because the dragon wants me to look pretty and be part of its hoard. I’m tired and annoyed and I’m bored as hell, because there’s nothing to do here. And you know what else I am?”

“What else?” Travis asked. 

“Horny. Because it won’t let me touch myself, it growls at me when I try. Would you like being held captive for weeks and told you couldn’t touch yourself?”

Eyes wide, Travis shook his head. “That sounds terrible.”

“Yeah. So let’s get the fuck out of here so I can jerk off without getting sniffed at by a giant lizard right after.” 

And he moved past Travis, angling for the mouth of the cave.

Travis had to agree that what Gavin was describing sounded pretty shitty. So, setting aside his desire for a dragon friend in the face of male camaraderie, he turned and went to leave the cave with the prince.

But just as they got to the mouth, a shadow fell over it and the ground shook as a huge red dragon suddenly landed on the plateau and started to come inside, growling when it saw them. “Oh, wow…”

“Fuck,” Gavin cursed. “Fuck. Well, I guess you got your wish. Dragon, Travis. Travis, dragon. I’m sure you two will get along great.”

And Gavin tried to move closer to the cave mouth, only to be growled at again. With a sigh, he moved back. “Fine, fine.” 

“Uh…hi?” Travis said, waving at it. “I’m Travis. Let’s be friends! Also you should let the prince go, or at least let him touch himself.”

The dragon growled again, smoke rising from its jaws.

But it didn’t incinerate him, at least. It just huffed at him and then lay down in front of the cave entrance. 

Gavin sighed. “Well, he’s not going to eat you. Come on, I’ll show you around the cave since we’re roommates now.” 

“Well…okay,” Travis said, putting his bag down and following after him. This wasn’t quite what he’d envisioned, but it was still pretty cool. And a prince was almost as awesome as a dragon. 

And hey, while he was here, Travis had plenty of time to try and befriend the dragon too.


	148. The Sea Witch (Ron/James, Little Mermaid AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of those ideas that once I had it, I couldn't unhave it until I'd written it.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” 

“Did you know you’re in my garden?” 

“I did not know that, actually,” Ron said. He hadn’t known that this was someone’s garden. He’d thought it was just some seaweed outside a cave. Who even lived in a cave, anyway?

Well, probably the sea witch. Which, since that was who Ron had set out to find, maybe he should have been a little more observant.

“Well, you are,” said the boy who was probably the sea witch. He was lanky and angular and also had eight tentacles that swirled around him as he moved. 

“Okay. Sorry for trespassing, then.” 

“That’s okay. Did you know you’re trapped in some eelweed?”

“That I did notice, actually,” said Ron, struggling against the restricting plant, which tightened around him. He was sort of floating there helplessly. “Why do you have eelweed in your garden?”

“To trap cute adventurers and stop them from coming to my house and killing me. I’m a witch, so sometimes that happens.”

Well, that was confirmation, at least. Ron focused on that instead of on the fact that it turned out he liked being tied up in eelweed, and also that the sea witch had just called him cute. “So. Could you maybe let me out?”

“No.” The witch said, swirling away. “The eelweed will loosen if you relax for a bit. It tightens if you struggle or pull at it.”

“I’ve noticed. You can’t…you know, magic it off?” Maybe asking the sea witch for help wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only plan Ron had at the moment.

“No.” The witch sighed. “See, this is the problem with people. All you ever want is for me to magic your problems away. It’s why I live all the way out here, so it’s hard for people to find me. But they still find me. You all suck.”

“I…thought you lived all the way out here because you were evil.” 

A guppy swam by Ron’s face as the witch looked at him, which lasted a good while. “My dear, sweet idiot. I’m not evil. I admit that in the past there’s been some nasty in my family. I’m James, by the way.”

Ron frowned. “Ron. So, what the fuck, you’re saying they were kidding when they called you, well…”

“A witch? No. But you’ll find that nowadays I’ve mended my mother’s ways.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Repented? Seen the light?” He didn’t buy it. 

“Yes. I’ve made a switch.”

“To this?” Ron would have gestured, but he was trapped. 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Ron still didn’t buy it, but… “Let me out of the fucking plant, then, if you’re so good.”

“No.”

“Why? Don’t you know magic?”

James sighed, gills flaring. “Unfortunately. It’s a talent that I’ve always possessed. But what, you want me to sit here and use it on behalf of the miserable, lonely and depressed?”

“Well…” James made that sound so pathetic. “Yes? I mean, there’s a lot of poor souls out there who could use your help.”

James rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. This one longing to be thinner, that one wanting to get the girl. And do I help them?”

“You should.”

“No, I shouldn’t, because magic isn’t the answer to either of those problems. These poor souls of yours, they’re sad, it’s true. But they come flocking to my cauldron crying ‘spells, James please’ and I’m not going to help them because most of them are just lazy and don’t want to put in the real effort involved in solving their own problems.” James just sounded annoyed, now.

“Well…I’ve heard stories about you,” Ron said slowly. “Trapping people and stuff.”

“Yes, well. Once or twice I have tried to help someone. And it’s invariably ended in disaster. People don’t want to pay the price for magic and then act like I’m raking them across coals when I insist on it.” James made a face. “Idiots. As if magic is free.”

“So what?” Ron asked. “Despite the odd complaint, you expect me to believe that on the whole you’ve been a fucking saint?”

“I don’t care what you believe,” James said, heading for the cave. “Stay still for half an hour, the plant will let you go.”

“But…hey, come the fuck back!” But it was too late, the witch had already disappeared into his cave, leaving Ron alone. He tried to just float there, calm, staying still. But staying still had never really been a habit of his. His tail kept twitching, or his arms kept trying to move, or the eelweed would get too tight and he’d try to shrink back from it and get more wrapped out. Or, worst of all, he’d end up liking the feel of it on him too much and wriggle a little, and that would just lead to more tightening, and…

“You’re not very good at staying still,” James said, startling Ron. When had he come back?

“It’s harder than it fucking looks,” Ron growled. “You should try it before you snark at people.”

“I don’t want to,” James told him, sighing again. “Look, I just want to know when you’re going to leave. Do you think you’re going to be able to stay still any time soon?”

“Probably fucking not,” Ron growled. “Look, can you just help?”

James looked at him. “That’s not a very polite way to ask.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Can you please just help?”

“That’s better. I can help you if you want.”

“Fucking thank you,” Ron said, inhaling. “Ready whenever you are.” He was admittedly slightly worried about magic being done right near him, but hey. Maybe James really wasn’t evil like he said. 

“Hold on. We haven’t discussed the subject of payment.” 

“What?” Ron’s eyes snapped open. “But I don’t have—”

“I’m not asking much,” James said, a tentacle covering Ron’s mouth. “Just a token, really, a trifle. You’ll barely even miss it. What I want from you is your curse words.” 

“My…curse words?”

“You’ve got it. No more swearing, profanity, zip.” 

“But…without my fuckwords I…” Ron liked swearing. 

“You’ll have your wits, your rude gestures. And don’t underestimate the importance of body language to express disdain,” James said, floating in such a way as to make his disdain plain. “No one really likes a lot of swearing. They think a guy who curses is a bore. It’s a sign of intellectual immaturity.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true. In polite society it’s much preferred for people not to say rude words. After all, Ron, what are idle insults for?”

“They’re for telling assholes how you feel about them!”

“Come on, nobody’s that impressed with profanity. True gentleman avoided it when they can. But people dote and swoon and fawn on a guy who’s verbally withdrawn—it’s those who don’t swear who make friends.” 

“I don’t really think you know how friends work,” Ron muttered. All his friends swore a lot. 

James just crossed his arms, looking at him. “Come on, Ron. Go ahead, make your choice. I’m a very busy person and I haven’t got all day. Do you want out of the plant? It won’t cost much. Just some swear words.” 

Ron glared at him. “You could just let me out!”

“No. Magic has a price. It’s sad, but true. If you want to cross a bridge, you have to pay a toll. So take a big deep breath and go ahead and say you won’t swear anymore.”

“What…” Ron wasn’t convinced. “What happens if I agree and then I do swear?”

“I’ll steal your soul and turn you into a bottom feeder.”

“What?” Ron jerked back, making the plant constrict heavily around him. “No, fuck off.”

James laughed. “I’m joking. Nothing really. I guess if I heard you do it I’d come and stick you back in the plant.” 

Ron frowned, trying to calm down. Well, if James had to hear him swearing, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. “Well…okay.”

James smiled. “Good. We have a deal then.” He waved his hand, and the plant loosened up, and Ron swam out. 

“What…” Ron said, righting himself. “That’s it? No magic changing or smoke or…”

“No, that’s all tacky,” James said, taking Ron’s hand and swimming towards the cave. “Come on.”

“Come…where?” Ron wasn’t sure what was happening, but he swam along behind James nonetheless. His grip was surprisingly strong.

“Inside. You can make me lunch.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because keeping you here is the only way I can make sure you keep up your end of the bargain,” James said, as they entered the cave. “You can be my assistant or something.”

“I don’t…what the fuck?”

James paused, looking at him, and Ron felt himself start to blush. “That’s going to be your only free pass.” 

Ron nodded, just keeping his mouth shut for now. He followed the sea witch into his mess of a cave, figuring that it could be a lot worse.


	149. Henry/Sam, Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is at the request of Hix, who asked for a Henry POV ages ago. Things have changed a lot in the story since then, but I trust we're all still curious to know what he's thinking. :)

It was only when Sam was sleeping that Henry felt like he could breathe. 

It had been that way from the second Henry had put that collar on Sam’s neck, taken away the magic that he used to form his identity, taken away most of what had made Sam feel like Sam and left him only with the anger and fear that were his skin. Ever since he’d put the collar on Henry had felt it, a hand on his throat, an axe at the back of his neck, a noose. 

Whatever metaphor anyone wanted to use. Sam was fury contained, unable to break and destroy like he wanted to. And Henry felt it—the minute that collar came off Sam, and it would have to eventually, that fury was going to break, and it was going to break all over him. There was no forgiving this, no going back from it, no pretending things were whatever the fuck passed for normal between them now that this had happened. 

Now that Henry had done this.

Sam was a dragon, powerful, indiscriminate, commanding, and Henry had put him on a leash. Nobody put a dragon on a leash for long, and they certainly didn’t live to tell about it. 

Sam grunted in his sleep, rolling over onto his belly. 

It wasn’t revenge. No matter what Sam thought, it wasn’t revenge that had gotten him collared. Henry was past that. He couldn’t care less about getting revenge for—what? The things Sam had done to him? Henry didn’t care about that. 

It wasn’t sadism, either. Henry didn’t want to hurt Sam any more than he wanted to hurt anyone else. He didn’t like hurting people, but nor was he a pacifist. Henry would hurt people if that was what he had to go to get what he wanted. But he wasn’t enjoying it, wasn’t getting off on it in the way that Sam did.

It wasn’t about power, either. Henry had no real power even now, and the only one who didn’t know that was Sam. Collaring Sam hadn’t changed anything except for which of them was getting hurt every night. 

It wasn’t about any of those things and it was about all three of them in measures. Sam was muttering incomprehensibly in his sleep, a dragon dreaming of conquest. 

He’d have it, one way or the other. Henry had to uncollar him someday, had to let him have his powers back someday. Soon. He couldn’t do this for more than a few weeks. It was dangerous. But he had to play the game as long as he could, because it was the only chance Henry was going to get to save Ech’kent. 

Henry had very limited control over Sam, he knew that. He could make Sam go places and say the right things, but he couldn’t make Sam think one thing or the other any more than Sam had been able to make him do that. 

There was a good chance he wouldn’t get what he wanted out of this. That Sam wouldn’t do what Henry hoped, that he’d prove himself a dragon in the worst way, a destructive power uncontrollable, even by himself. If he did, Henry would die, and so would Sam, in no more than a few years. He’d burn everything until there was nothing left to burn but himself. That was what he was like. 

Henry had to hope that Sam would come to realize what Henry was doing here, and why he was doing it. And he had to hope that Sam did it before Henry was forced to take that collar off him, to give him back his dragon. 

Sam would probably still kill Henry then, even if he did realize. That was okay. It wasn’t about life and death, either. Henry would die knowing that he’d stopped his dragon from burning the whole world to ashes because he could. 

Sam stirred, and Henry held his breath. But he fell back into a sleep, and Henry sighed, breathing. 

Just breathing, while he still could.


	150. Clan Netzer, Family Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reader by the name of Villainy over on Tumblr asked me for some interaction between Sam and his family before they all scattered to the four corners of the earth. So here's a fun family dinner!

“Come on, just taste it.”

“But it smells funny.”

“Come on, kid, don’t be a wimp.”

Sam scowled. He wasn’t a wimp. He took the cup, and, pretending it didn’t smell sour, put it to his lips. To get it over with, he just put his head back and gulped the contents of the cup, swallowing them at once, making a face as he did. “Yuck,” he said, putting the cup down with a wobble. “Yuck, yuck, Saul. It’s gross.”

Saul laughed, patting Sam on the back hard, making him cough. Some of the liquid was running down his chin since he hadn’t managed to swallow it all. “You did it. That was awesome, Sammy.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Sam muttered, even as he felt himself smile, proud of himself. He felt dizzy, though, and he sat down. “Wow, I feel funny.”

“It gets better,” Saul promised, and Sam believed him because Saul was eleven and he knew stuff, even if he was usually a jerk about telling Sam that same stuff and always said he was too stupid and little to know anything, even though Sam wasn’t little, he was nine years old. 

The door to the dining room banged open and Sam felt dad’s power come into the room, the stone thrumming from his pocket like it always did. Sarah was there too, but Sam only sensed her belatedly. “What are you two idiots doing?” dad asked, as he approached the table. 

“Nothing, sir,” Sam said quietly, head still spinning. 

“Sammy chugged an entire cup of wine,” Saul told dad. 

“I did not!” Stupid Saul always went and got him in trouble. Sam always believed him when he said he wouldn’t, too. 

“It’s on your chin. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. You know how he is.”

“Saul! You made me do it!”

“What, I held the cup to your lips and forced it down your throat?” Saul asked, sneering with his voice as he gave Sam a shove. 

Sam snarled, lashing out at Saul with the spread of Chaos skittering up his arm, prepare to toss his stupid brother into a wall and…

“That’s enough, Samson,” dad said, and Sam was held by dad’s power, unable to move, pinpricks of fire running all over his body. But Sam didn’t cry out in pain. He wasn’t a baby, he was nine years old. He just pushed back his hold on Chaos, and waited until dad let him go. 

He did, after a minute, taking a seat opposite Sam. Saul and Sarah sat down too. “Wasn’t my fault,” Sam muttered, taking a steadying breath.

“I don’t care whose fault it was. You don’t use your powers on your siblings,” dad told him. “Now eat.”

Sam didn’t want to eat. He was always the one who got in trouble and it was never his fault. Saul or Sarah would make him do something that they thought was funny, and then dad would get mad at him for whatever it was. It happened every time. And Sam fell for it every time. Why was he so dumb?

“I said eat, Samson.” 

“I don’t feel well.” Sam was dizzy sitting in his chair and his stomach felt bad. Maybe Saul had poisoned him again. 

“No doubt because of the wine you know you’re not supposed to drink.” 

Saul chuckled, but then stopped abruptly. Maybe dad had made him stop. Good. “In any case,” dad continued. “Eat. It will help you be less drunk. And it’s your sister’s last night here.” 

Sam scowled, and Saul spoke up as Sam reached out for one of the dishes on the table. “Where’re you going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sarah said. 

“Well yeah, dumbass, that’s why I asked.” 

“And I didn’t tell you because I don’t want you to know.” 

“Are you coming back?” Sam asked as he plopped what he assumed were beets onto his plate. He hated beets. 

Sarah was quiet for a second. “Not for a while.” 

Sam was quiet. That probably meant she wasn’t coming back at all. Like Sylvia. Who Sam barely remembered, but he did remember how devastated he’d been when dad had told him she wasn’t coming back. He didn’t really care if Sarah didn’t come back, except that sometimes she let him sit with her and she would read to him. 

“I’m sending Sarah on a mission,” dad said. “When you two are older I’m sure I’ll find things for you to do as well.”

“Assuming you guys don’t kill each other,” Sarah said with half a laugh in her voice. She probably hoped the would. Half the time that Sam and Saul fought was because of something she’d done, like the time she’d stolen Saul’s toy elephant and hidden it in Sam’s room. 

“I’m quite certain I can count on your brothers to behave,” dad said. 

Sam behaved. It was only when one of these two made him do something that he got in trouble. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on Sammy and make sure he stays out of the wine cellar,” Saul teased. 

Sam started to snap something at him, but dad spoke over him. “For heaven’s sake, Saul, help your brother get his food. You’re just going to sit there and watch him make a mess?”

Sam’s face contorted into a glare. He wasn’t making a mess. He was getting the food that he didn’t even want. But now Saul, with a sigh, was doing it, pushing Sam into his chair and putting probably way too much food on his plate. Sam still felt dizzy and his stomach was starting to feel really sick, and the smell of the food wasn’t helping. 

It smelled like beets. 

“For her own safety, it’s better if neither of you knows where Sarah is going,” dad continued. “She’ll be leaving in the morning, so use tonight to say whatever goodbyes you have planned.”

“God, that’s hardly any time to plan a proper party,” Saul muttered, finishing with Sam’s plate and sitting back. “I don’t even have my poisons out.” 

“Don’t go to any trouble on my account,” Sarah said, as Sam closed his eyes against the nausea that was rising in his chest. “I don’t plan to miss you overly.”

“Maybe I can dress Sammy like a clown and get him to do a dance for you,” Saul mused. “He’d be good at that, flapping around like a…”

When Sam threw up, he made sure to hit Saul.


	151. Theodore, Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is at the request of Le1Mil, who asked for Theodore's POV during or just after Chapter 41 of Slavery. Enjoy!

When Marcus had dragged Daniel away, Theodore shut the door behind them, leaving himself alone. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath, trying to order his thoughts. 

Daniel had no idea the effect he had on Theodore, none at all. The boy was a hurricane in Theodore’s life, upending everything not out of malevolence but just because that was what he did. And for all that it was surprising, it was never unpredictable. Theodore just constantly failed to predict it. When he’d woken up that night with Daniel sitting on him, holding a knife and crying, Theodore hadn’t even been angry because the first thing he’d thought was that he should have seen that coming. 

Theodore had been sitting here since he’d woken up this morning, more and more worried the longer Daniel had gone without waking. Nothing had happened to him; Darwin had just knocked him out, that was all. But he’d slept through half the day nonetheless, waking up only when he was ready, not when Theodore would have had him.

Theodore didn’t control Daniel, not an ounce. Collar on his neck or no, he did whatever he wanted and damn what Theodore thought was best. Running after those three like that had been insane. He could have died. But Theodore doubted Daniel had even considered that possibility. He’d decided what to do and he’d done it. 

Theodore couldn’t tell if it was a disregard for his own safety, or a complete assurance that the world would mould itself to Daniel’s desires. But either way, it was terrifying. Because one day he was going to be proven wrong, and it was going to get him hurt or killed. Theodore wasn’t sure he could bear that. He wasn’t sure he could bear to lose Daniel. 

It had hurt him enough to watch Daniel leave with Marcus, to leave him and go see the other boys. He recognized this impulse in himself, the impulse to isolate Daniel, to not let him have friends so that he’d focus on Theodore alone. And he resisted it, because Daniel would recognize it too and resent him for it. Especially now that he had no reason to—he’d gotten away with it before because he’d been able to use them as leverage over Daniel, but Daniel knew Theodore wasn’t going to actually do anything to them. Theodore was relying on Daniel to just play along, because heaven knew he had no way of making Daniel do anything. They used games to tell each other the truth, they always had. 

And so Theodore had to pretend that it didn’t bother him that Daniel would rather spend time with the other boys than with him. Of course he would—they were his age, or close enough. Theodore was much older than him. Given the choice, of course he’d rather spend all his time with them than him. 

The only thing Theodore knew that would draw Daniel back to him was that none of the other boys—young men, none of them were really boys but poor Simon, and Marcus in particular was getting a bit brutish as he got older—were anywhere near Daniel’s intellectual equal. None of them were stupid, but Daniel’s intellect was a whole measure above theirs in a way that had to be as obvious to Daniel as it was to Theodore. The only times Theodore could remember Daniel clearly enjoying himself had been when he’d been puzzling something out, some thought experiment or some plan or something. The other boys couldn’t give Daniel that.

Not that Theodore was confident he could either. Daniel was the smartest person Theodore had ever met by a wide margin, and he didn’t think he’d be able to keep him stimulated properly for long in absence of the current crisis. 

Daniel was eventually going to outgrow Theodore, and when he did he was going to leave, because there was no reason for him to stay here where Theodore would just end up hurting him. He would leave when he could.

Just like Ian. 

He was going to leave someday, just like Ian had left, just like all of them except Benny had left. They always left, and Theodore had learned not to be as bothered by it now as he had been when he’d been younger. 

But he could feel it building, that anxiety. When Daniel left it wasn’t going to be the same as the others. When Daniel left it was going to be like a hurricane, leaving everything upended and torn apart in his wake, leaving Theodore to pick up all the pieces. 

When Daniel left, Theodore was afraid it was going to destroy him. 

And he didn’t know what he could do to stop it.


	152. Boey, Gabrielle, Knives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request from JustSomeGal, who was curious to see Gabrielle and Boey interacting without Franz. Hope you enjoy and thanks!

“Where’s Franz?”

Boey didn’t look up from the poem he was writing, distracted. “He’s outside, I think.”

“What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know, bothering Frederick?” Boey scowled. Why was she bothering…

There weren’t many ‘shes’ who were habitually in here. Boey looked up, saw Gabrielle standing there, arms crossed. Oops. He stood up. “Your Highness,” he added. “My apologies, I was lost in thought.”

“That’s fine,” Gabrielle said, sitting down at the table with him. “I understand. Sometimes people try to talk to me while I’m practicing.” 

Boey smiled. “At least you weren’t in danger of being stabbed by talking to me now, I suppose.”

“Not unless you decide to use that knife you’ve got in your shirt,” Gabrielle said. Then she sat there, as if waiting for Boey to deny it. 

Boey just set his pen down, leaning forward on one arm, chin in his hand. “If I did I’m sure you could get one of yours out before I did anything.” She had two that he could see, one on her arm and one near her hip. 

“Maybe. Should we test that?”

Boey shrugged. “Why would we do that? We like each other.”

“We do?” Gabrielle asked, also leaning an elbow on the table. 

“I don’t know,” Boey admitted. He still, after all this time, wasn’t sure what to think about Gabrielle, both as a person and as an idea. Just because he’d always known Franz was going to marry someone who wasn’t him didn’t make it any easier to deal with. And Gabrielle was a nice person, mostly. But she wasn’t quite what Boey had pictured.

“Well, in that case, nevermind Franz,” Gabrielle said. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked.”

“We’ve talked plenty.”

“I meant without Franz there.”

Boey frowned. “No, you’re right, we haven’t. But it doesn’t matter. We don’t have to be friends, your Highness.”

“You’re fucking my fiancé.” 

“And you’re marrying my boyfriend.” He put it in northern terms because nobody understood what a companion was up here. 

“So you can probably call me Gabrielle,” Gabrielle finished. “And I do think we have to be friends, because you could potentially make my marriage very difficult if you wanted to.”

Boey looked down at his poem. “I wouldn’t do that, Gabrielle.”

“On purpose, sure. But Franz will know if you don’t like me, and he’ll get upset.”

“He knows better,” Boey said, shaking his head. “What am I saying, no he doesn’t. Look, it’s not going to happen.”

“No,” Gabrielle agreed. “Because we’re going to be friends. For the greater good.”

Boey sighed. It was definitely the best thing—for Franz, for the kingdom and for Boey too. He couldn’t hate Franz’s wife, after all. It wasn’t like he could leave her for him. “I’d rather be friends because we liked each other.”

“I thought we did like each other?” Gabrielle asked with a smirk.

Boey snorted. “I’ll show you my knives if you show me yours.”


	153. Ron/James, Embarrassment

[Prompt:](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/179065104218/can-i-get-a-uhhhh-a-james-and-ron-thing-where-ron) "Can I get a uhhhh a James and Ron thing where ron gets hit by plant pheromones and spends the following 24 hours being super embarrassed about everything (being in love with James, his nudity, even the garden that loves him so much?)" by an anon.

\---

“Ah…”

“Ron.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Really sure.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“James!” Ron just kept his eyes closed long after the pollen had all been washed off. “I’m okay!”

“Don’t raise your voice, Ron.” 

Ron blushed even harder than he already was, shrinking away. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” James said, touching his cheek. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m just…really embarrassed.” 

“Embarrassed?” James asked. “Ron, it was an accident, there’s no reason to be…”

“But I am!” Ron cried, wanting to cover his face and hide. “I just am, okay!”

“Okay,” James agreed. “Well, I’m sure that will pass in a minute. The Spireblossom feels bad.”

“I know,” Ron said. He knew that. He could feel it in the plant’s song, it felt bad for accidentally spraying him with weird pollen. The plants were all worried about him, all singing at him, all wanting to know if he was okay. They loved him. The garden really liked him a lot, Ron knew that. 

And it made him want to hide under a blanket, twisting his stomach into knots and making his face feel like it was about to break out like when he’d been eleven and had found out what sex was for the first time, but a hundred times worse.

“Spireblossom pollen can stimulate weird parts of the brain,” James was muttering. “I wonder if it’s what’s making you feel embarrassed. Hm.”

“Is there…” Ron was having a hard time making himself even ask. “Is there something you can do?”

“Not really, sorry. It should wear off in a day or so.” James sounded worried, and that just made Ron want to bury himself in a hole even more. James was so nice. He cared about Ron so much. He loved Ron so much. And Ron loved him so much and his love was so big it hurt and holy shit that was the most embarrassing thing Ron had ever realized about himself, he was so stupidly in love with James, everyone was going to make fun of him if they ever found out…

It didn’t matter that everyone he knew already knew. He still felt like he was just waiting for taunts and laughter to rain down and Ron just wanted a cold bath to make it go away. 

“Okay,” Ron managed to say. “I’m…can I…go inside? Please?”

“Of course,” James said, smiling at Ron. “I guess being naked outside is too much for you at the moment, hm?”

Oh, God, why did he have to say that? Why did he have to notice that Ron was naked? He was out here, outside, in the garden where anyone could see him and he wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing and if that wasn’t enough to make him want to climb a tree and never come down, Ron had a raging hard-on. Because of course he did, because being embarrassed was a sexual thing for Ron, and literally everything he said, did or experienced was embarrassing him right now so of course he was the most turned on he’d ever been in his life and the only thing that was going to be worse than this was the fact that inevitably, inevitably, Ron wasn’t going to be able to take it anymore and he was going to need to ask James for permission to do something about it and when that happen, Ron was going to die. He was just going to roll over and die and finally put a stop to all this. 

But instead of verbalizing all of that, Ron just whimpered and ran inside, where he wrapped all the blankets on the bed around himself like a loser and tried to pretend that wasn’t just as embarrassing as standing there outside where James and all the plants could see his boner. 

It was going to be a very long day.


	154. Sam, Henry, Bachelor Parties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some recent events in the story led to an [anon asking](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/180055892968/so-when-we-getting-dumbass-bachelor-party-drabbles) when if we'd get some bachelor party drabbles for Sam and Henry, so here those are! :)

“What the hell is all this?”

Scott put an arm around Sam, his stink different than usual. It smelled like he had cologne on over top of his usual rank. “It’s a bachelor party, Sammy.”

There was loud music, that was all Sam knew. “What the fuck?”

“I heard about you and Sparkles tying the noose. Culture dictates that you get a classy bachelor party to celebrate before you get put in concrete and sank to the bottom of the river. Or something. Come on, I hired strippers and invited all your friends.”

Sam scowled as Scott pulled him into the club. “I don’t have any friends,” he said, as Scott pushed him into a chair that was sticky. 

“I know. I invited all my friends.”

“You don’t have any friends either.” 

Scott snorted. “Why do you have to be such a puss? Todd picked the menu.” 

“Great, we get to eat Pizza Pockets and Jell-O,” Sam grumbled. 

“There’s also booze.”

“I don’t drink.”

“You do tonight. You also get free lapdances.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with a lapdance?”

“God,” Scott said, rubbing Sam’s hair. “You’re boring. You’re supposed to like it.”

“I don’t like women.”

“Good thing I got you male strippers, then. Derek’s idea.”

“What…” Sam took a moment to sigh loudly. “Why are those two even here?”

“Cause you’re a loser with no friends, Sammy. It’s kind of sad. Speaking of which, can I be your best man or is that spot reserved for your big bro?”

Sam snorted. “If you invited my brother tonight…”

“I did. Do you think he’ll come?”

Sam wondered. “That would be convenient. You know what, maybe this will be fun. Get Todd and Derek over here, I want them to get lapdances. And give me something to drink, but if I throw up on someone it’s going to be you. Nobody would even notice.”

“See, that’s the spirit,” Scott said, and a cup was put in Sam’s hand. “Enjoy your last night of freedom.”

Sam downed the drink then regretted it as it burned.

The next morning he didn’t remember most of it, but everyone but him was sore, so it couldn’t have been that bad. 

\---

“Geoffrey, this is stupid.”

“Aw, come on,” Geoffrey said, dragging Henry into the bar. “It’s going to be fun.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “It’s really not.” He couldn’t imagine anything less fun than a tacky bachelor party just because he and Sam were accidentally getting married. 

“Parties are fun,” Geoffrey told him. “Don’t worry, it’s not going to be tacky, I didn’t even hire strippers.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.”

“That’s because you’re distrustful and jaded. What happened to the carefree and happy Henry I used to take baths with?”

Henry sighed. “He was ten years old.” 

“Well, channel your inner ten-year-old, you grump.”

“Literally getting married. Not sure that’s an ideal mindset.” 

Geoffrey laughed as they entered the bar and he pulled Henry over to a table. Some people Henry hadn’t seen in ages were there, and there was beer, which Henry figured was a plus. 

Henry spent the first twenty minutes answering questions about Sam, which also included a lot of questions about when Henry had started sleeping with guys. It was surprisingly easy to dodge around a lot of topics by saying they’d met through work and that their parents had known each other. 

And just when they were getting to the topic of where the hell Henry had been for the last year and a bit, the door to the bar opened and some people who were unmistakeably strippers came in. “Oh,” Geoffrey said, clapping his hands. “I forgot. I lied. I totally hired strippers.” 

“You fucking suck,” Henry said. He wasn’t even mad. He was mostly just kind of drunk. At least the strippers were hot. Henry would be okay seeing them naked until he saw Sam again, he figured.

Boy, when had he gotten so fucked? Whatever. It was his bachelor party, he could do whatever he wanted. 

So Henry had fun watching the strippers and drinking and talking to his long-lost friends, and mostly he realized throughout the night that actually, what he wished the most was that Sam were here to gripe about this with him, and that, if nothing else, made him feel like he wasn’t making a huge mistake.


	155. Wes/Mick interactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [prompt](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/180261805953/could-i-ask-for-some-interaction-between-mick-and) for this one was some interaction with Wes and Mick by an anon on Tumblr, which I merged with an outstanding request I had from JustSomeGal, who wanted their POVs in chapter 10 of Team. So here are four little snippets of those two having some alone time.

“Can I talk with you a second?” Wes asked Mick one night, while they were waiting for Cal to get back from information gathering. Mick hated it that Cal did this part by himself, but he worked better that way. They’d gone with him once and Cal hadn’t found out anything because they’d gotten in the way. 

“Sure,” Mick said, looking up from the Pillars. He was practicing a new healing spell. “What is it?”

Wes was quiet instead of answering. “Wes?” 

“Promise not to laugh.” 

Mick snorted. “No.” 

Wes sighed. “Promise not to get mad at least.” 

“Why would I get mad?” Mick asked, sitting straighter. Something must be up. 

Wes shrugged. “I’ve noticed…fuck. Forget I said anything, nevermind.” 

“No, now I want to know.” It wasn’t like Wes to beat around the bush like this. He looked really bothered by something too. “What is it, Wes?”

“Okay, maybe I’m just being crazy. It’s about Cal. I’ve kind of noticed that he’s been flirting with you a lot lately.” 

“Really?” Mick couldn’t say he’d noticed that, though he wouldn’t pretend that the idea didn’t make him at least a little happy. “Cal flirts with everyone, Wes, it doesn’t mean anything.” They had a rule about not dating each other or anyone else they hired. It would mess up the team dynamic. 

“Yeah, it’s cute.” Wes smiled. “The thing is, I’ve noticed you flirting back.”

“I…”

“And I just wanted to say I know we have the whole thing but if you really want to, you should go for it, Mick.” 

Mick was blushing like a loser and he didn’t want to talk about this. “I’m not going to go for it, don’t be dumb. Besides, I’ve noticed you flirting back and forth with him too.” 

Wes went a bit red. “That…I’m not.”

“Me either.” 

“Liar.”

“You too.” 

They were quiet for a long minute, neither of them knowing what to say. Mick felt like they were standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall off and take their friendship with them. He really wanted to step back from that but he didn’t know how. 

“You should go for it,” Wes said again. “I wouldn’t mind.” 

“You like him.” 

“You do too, and I want you to be happy.”

“Well, maybe I want you to be happy.” 

Wes laughed. “Well maybe it would make me happy if you two were happy.” 

“Well…” Mick blushed again, swallowing. “Maybe it sounds like it’s not just Cal that you like.” 

Wes went quiet, looking away. 

Mick nodded. “Maybe it’s not just Cal that I like either.” 

“Well. Maybe that’s going to be a problem,” Wes grumbled. 

“Maybe it’s not.” 

Wes looked at him. Mick looked back. And he smiled. “Maybe,” Mick said, “there’s an easy solution that lets me give it a shot with Cal, and you give it a shot with Cal, and me and you give it a shot. All at the same time.”

Mick had never felt more like he was falling off a cliff. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was going to die. Wes was going to kill him. 

But Wes didn’t kill him, just sat there thoughtfully for a moment, then he came over and sat beside Mick on the bed. And he kissed Mick on the lips, gently. “Maybe there is.”

Mick sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were going to punch me.” 

Wes laughed. “Nah, I like you too much.”

That made Mick feel happy, and that convinced him that this might not be a nightmare after all. “Now all we have to do is convince Cal.” 

“I’ve got an idea for how to do that,” Wes said. “Smart as he is, he’s kind of dense.” 

“Noticed that, have you?”

Wes nodded. “So here’s what I think we should do…”

\---

Wes was _so fucking scared_. 

First of all—this whole expedition to the swamp was the worst idea that Cal had ever had and that counted the time when he’d wanted them all to dress like performers and put on a play to steal some tacky amulet from some sketchy guy. It had started with a guy Cal had described as a creep sending them to find something that’d been missing for a hundred years, progressed with a crazy old lady who hadn’t been as crazy as she seemed, which made it worse, and ended with zombies in a swamp and it turned out that Wes was afraid of zombies, which he thought was fair, and now Cal was talking to a ghost that neither he nor Mick could see and Wes just didn’t know what was going on. 

And Wes was scared. 

And he couldn’t show it, because it was Wes’s job not to be scared. He was big and strong and he was supposed to protect Mick and Cal from everything that came at them, but how the _fuck_ was Wes supposed to protect Cal from a ghost he couldn’t see or touch or interact with at all? 

And Mick was scared, because of whatever crazy magic shit was powering all this, and that made Wes scared. And Cal wasn’t scared, and that scared Wes even more because who knew what stupid shit he’d do since he didn’t think the danger was as bad as it was. 

Wes loved both of them so goddamn much and he felt so goddamn useless right now and he was so terrified he wanted to cry. 

“Hey,” Mick said quietly, taking Wes’s hand after Cal had jumped down through the hole he’d cut in the floor. He was down there by himself now. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Wes said, forcing a nod. “Bit wigged out by all this crazy shit, but it’s nothing to worry about. We’ll be fine.” 

“I know,” Mick said, squeezing his hand, holding Wes there. “I know we will. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s…”

“Wes,” Mick said, firm. “It’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.”

“No,” Wes said in a whisper, shaking his head. “It’s not.”

“You being scared is what’s going to keep us alive today,” Mick told him. He kissed Wes, gently. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Wes said, closing his eyes, just for a second. Cal couldn’t see this, couldn’t see him shake and worry. “So much.” 

“It’s okay,” Mick promised. “I’ll make sure it’s okay. Now go, before Cal sticks his hand in something that bites him.” 

Wes nodded, smiling, and he kissed Mick back. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised back, and he carefully lowered himself into the hole.

Wes was terrified, but it was going to be okay.

\---

They stayed in the house that night. It was safe now that the undead were gone and the stone was neutralized; there were only animals to worry about and it was clear that those had developed a habit of not coming near the place. 

Cal had wrapped Toby’s body up in an old blanket and lain him on a bed in one of the rooms, and the three of them had found another room, free of bodies and blood, and put their blankets down. They’d held each other until they’d fallen asleep. 

Or at least until Wes and Cal had fallen asleep. Mick couldn’t. He didn’t want to pull away and wake them both up, so he just lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, lit by some moonlight that filtered in through the dirty window. 

The window wasn’t the only thing that was dirty. Using necromancy had been necessary to beat Mathias, and it wasn’t like Mick had done anything like raise the dead, but just touching the power associated with it, a pulsing, acrid power that left the taste of rot in Mick’s mouth, was enough to make him want to be sick. 

“Mick?” Wes asked suddenly, startling him. 

“Yeah?” Mick asked back, voice a whisper. Cal was sleeping like the dead in between them. “You’re still up.” 

“So are you.” 

“Just…can’t sleep,” Mick muttered. 

“Yeah. You really pulled our asses out of it today. Thanks.” 

“Told you I’d handle it,” Mick said, smiling in the dark. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Yeah,” Wes said, reaching over Cal and just holding his hand there until Mick took it. “But you’re not okay, are you?”

Mick was quiet for a long moment, holding Wes’s hand. They just lay there, the three of them. Cal snorted between them. “I can still feel it,” Mick said after a while, not sure if Wes had fallen asleep but knowing he hadn’t at the same time. “The power. Necromancy. I can still feel it there with the Pillars, Wes. And I don’t think I’m ever not going to feel it.” 

And Mick didn’t know what that made him. 

Wes was quiet again, but only for a minute or two. “That doesn’t mean you’re going to use it, Mick.” 

“I know.” Mick would never use that power again. He wouldn’t. “But I can still…”

“You saved our lives,” Wes interrupted. “Both of us, and Toby. You had no choice, Mick. I’m glad you used it. I’m sorry that you had to, but I’m glad you did.” 

“I am too,” Mick admitted, because he’d do it again if he had to. He’d become a necromancer permanently if that was what it took to keep Wes and Cal safe. “But I just…I feel dirty, Wes.” He’d never heard himself sound so small. 

Wes let out a long sigh. “I’m so sorry, Mick. You’re not dirty. But I know that doesn’t help, me saying it.”

“It does,” Mick said. It did, a little. “It does, Wes. Don’t tell him, okay?” he asked. “It’ll just upset him even more than he already is.” 

A part of Mick knew that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair to Cal and it definitely wasn’t fair to Wes. But he needed it anyway, at least for now. 

“I won’t,” Wes promised. “You’ll tell him someday.” 

 

“Yeah, I will someday,” Mick agreed. He didn’t know when, but he would. “Thanks, Wes. I…thanks.” 

“You’re welcome, Mick. Try to go to sleep?”

“I’ll try. You too, okay?” This wasn’t fair at all. Mick knew that Wes had had a really hard time today. They shouldn’t just be talking about him. 

“Yeah. I think I can now. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Wes,” Mick said, and he eventually fell asleep, knowing that he was still himself, and knowing he wasn’t alone. 

\---

“Do you think…”

“No.” 

Mick frowned, resting his head on Wes’s shoulder. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Wes didn’t need to let Mick finish, he knew what Mick was going to say. “No, I don’t think Cal’s going to freak out when he sees us.” 

Mick was quiet. Even though in many ways the changes to his body weren’t as drastic as what the demons had done to Wes, Wes knew it was bothering him a lot more. 

Not that Wes wasn’t bothered—he hadn’t asked to be all furry and to have his ears moved and to have to learn to walk with a tail. That had just happened to him over the course of a week or so and he was pissed about it. But he was more pissed about the tattoos and the weird bulbs Mick had been given. Because he knew it was bothering Mick, that he looked different. Mick had always been a lot less comfortable with his body being looked at than Wes had been. 

“How could he not?” Mick asked, miserable. 

Wes kissed the side of his head. “Because he loves us. And you know as well as I do that when he gets here it’s going to be on the back of a fucking griffon or something and he’ll have trumpets blaring in the background and as he tears this place apart. And we’ll be able to trace the trail of destruction from here to Heated Rock that he cut to find us. He’s not going to care what we look like—he’ll probably be pissed, but if you’re worried he’s going to change his opinion of you because of some tattoos, I think you know better.” 

“I do,” Mick said, moving closer to Wes. “I do, it’s just…” He shut his eyes, taking a breath. 

“It’s not fair,” Wes rumbled, holding him. “It’s not fair.” 

Mick nodded, crying a little. “I’m so glad you’re here. I know that’s fucked up. Obviously I wish you weren’t. But I’m so glad I’m not here alone, Wes. I couldn’t…”

“Sure you could,” Wes told him quietly. He was so glad that he wasn’t alone too, but he’d rather have been kidnapped alone. He’d rather have not put Mick through this. “You’re so much stronger than you think you are, Mick.” 

“I’m not,” Mick whispered. 

“Liar. If it weren’t for me you’d have broken out of here already.” 

Mick snorted. “Sure.” He nestled closer to Wes. “Thanks, Wes.” He was feeling less upset now, Wes could tell. 

“We won’t be in here much longer.” 

“I know. You know, I actually kind of like the fur. It’s warm.” 

“Yeah,” Wes said. He hadn’t been cold since it had appeared there. “I have to admit I don’t mind it. And the tattoos make you look kind of cool.” 

Mick smiled. “I wanted a tattoo when I was a kid, you know. My dad told me I had to move out if I got one.”

“So there’s no problem,” Wes chuckled. Part of him had always wanted to throttle Mick’s parents, who every so often didn’t seem like very good parents to him. “You’re growing into the bad boy you were always destined to be.” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Mick muttered, moving to sit in Wes’s lap. “I’m bad.” 

Wes smiled, hands on Mick’s hips. “You want to show me how bad?”

“Maybe I do,” Mick said, kissing Wes. 

And Wes thought, for a moment before he got very distracted, that if they had to be here, he too was glad they were here together.


	156. Daniel/Simon, First Time (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a prompt from Spirit_Man, who asked for Daniel and Simon having a first time. Hope you like!

People were constantly touching Daniel in his sleep, it really wasn’t something that bothered him. Either he was in bed with Theodore being held or he was in the room with the other slaves and Marcus would sleep beside him and brush his arm, touch his back, roll onto him, or Hugh would kick him, or whatever. He would only half wake up when it happened, just enough to be aware that it was going on but not enough to actually disturb his sleep when it turned out to be normal sleep-touching. 

So he’d half woken up, then fallen back asleep, about an hour ago when Simon had rolled near him in the dark, head kind of resting near Daniel’s shoulder. And then he woke up again when Simon very suddenly stopped touching him, but was obviously still right there. 

That woke Daniel up because rather than normal sleep-touching, it felt deliberate. Simon was awake, and Daniel had a hard time sleeping when someone near him was awake. 

So Daniel opened his eyes, saw Simon sitting over him in the dim light provided by the mostly shuttered lamp. “Simon?”

“Sorry,” Simon whispered, not sounding surprised that Daniel wasn’t asleep. “I…couldn’t sleep.” 

Daniel nodded. “Anything I can do?” 

Simon was quiet for a second. “Yes,” he said, voice barely audible. “Can…you give me a hand?”

Daniel didn’t need to ask with what. The code they used wasn’t hard to crack even if he didn’t already know. “Sure.” He started to sit up. 

Simon put a hand on Daniel’s chest, holding him down. “I want…” And he climbed onto Daniel, straddling him. “You’re hard too.” 

“Don’t worry about…”

“You always say that. I want to,” Simon muttered, reaching down and putting his hand around Daniel. 

“Okay,” Daniel said, shrugging. He grabbed Simon as well, feeling how hot he was. 

Simon started panting as Daniel stroked him, massaging Daniel too. Daniel kept his eyes open, looking up at Simon, and using what he could see of Simon’s face to tell him when to go faster, when to slow down. It was two seconds before Simon was leaking on Daniel’s hand, letting Daniel go a little faster on him. 

Simon was moving his hips, grinding a little on Daniel as he whinged in need. And Daniel let him do it for a minute or two before he covered Simon’s hand in his. “Here. Let go for a second.” 

“I want…”

“I know,” Daniel said. “Trust me.” 

Simon looked down at him for a minute as if deciding whether he could do that, before he let go of Daniel’s erection. 

And Daniel let go of Simon’s, just for a second, and he brought their two together, wrapping his hand and Simon’s around both at the same time. “There. Like this.” 

“Oh, God…” Simon said, getting it immediately. He fell forward, using his other hand to keep himself up, and he started moving back and forth, his hips picking up speed as he and Daniel worked together. 

Daniel let Simon do most of the work, moving back and forth, hand going hard, breath hot on Daniel’s cheek. He moved his own hand, helping the process along, surprised to find that he was getting closer way faster than he’d thought, leaking a lot himself. Maybe he’d needed this just as badly as Simon had. 

Simon came first with a strangled cry, shooting onto Daniel’s hand and belly, going stiff on top of Daniel as he did. But Daniel kept jerking them off, and he wasn’t far behind Simon, soon shooting up to add his own mess to Simon’s with a pleased sigh. 

Simon flagged almost immediately, falling down on top of Daniel and smearing cum on his belly before moving off, laying beside Daniel, still holding their sticky hands together. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed, nodding. He closed his eyes, yawning. “Thanks, Simon.”

Simon nodded beside him. “We can do that again, right?”

“Sure. Whenever you want, okay?”

“Now,” Simon muttered, but then he giggled a little. “Too tired though. Tomorrow.” 

Daniel smiled, pulling them closer together. He was glad, glad to have this closeness back. “Tomorrow,” he promised.


	157. Derek/Simon, Private Time (nsfw, sleepover)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from Spirit_Man, this time asking for Derek to have some nice sex for once, and then for Simon to be his partner. It's at the sleepover. :)

Was Derek embarrassed about being hard? No. He was in his underwear at a sleepover full of other guys in their underwear and there was really very little worth being embarrassed about at that point. Was he the only person hard at the sleepover? Not by a yard of stretched cotton. Even Sam had had a boner the last time Derek had seen him. Was Derek going to keep sitting there in front of everyone like that? Not in a million years. 

Because if Derek did do that, eventually Todd would notice, and Todd being Todd would make a thing about it, and then he’d probably just yank Derek’s briefs right down and either jerk him off or make him jerk himself off right there. Was Derek shy? No, his life had no room for that. Was it likely that at this sleepover anyone would care if he got a handjob in the middle of the room where everyone could see? No, Derek was surprised it hadn’t happened yet. Was Derek going to be the first person it happened to and have to deal with the fallout of that all night? Not a chance.

So Derek snuck away when he got a chance and went to go masturbate like a normal person so he could go back to having fun. He was having a lot of fun tonight and he didn’t want that ruined by some hormones and a lack of pants for three blocks. A lot of things had been ruined for Derek by hormones, but if nothing else he wasn’t going to let his own do it to him. 

Not far from the main room where everyone was, there was a promising looking room with nobody in it. It looked like a living room or something, or at least it had lots of chairs and couches in it. Perfect. Derek went in, shut the door behind him and sat down on a couch with his briefs around his ankles and went to work. 

Which in retrospect was just asking to get caught but hey, nobody with a boner had ever thought straight and Derek wasn’t about to change what was working, and no, he didn’t hear the door open, he was too interested in his hand and his imagination and it wasn’t until someone sat on the couch beside him that Derek realized someone was there.

Derek opened his eyes, stopping, and saw honey-gold curls and bright yellow briefs and a tent that looked downright painful. “Uh…sorry!” his new neighbour said. “Do you mind if I…also do that?”

Derek smiled. “Course not. It’s not my couch.” 

The other boy nodded, and slid his briefs down with a sigh and obviously no shyness. “Sorry if that was weird or anything,” he muttered. “I just…it’s easier sometimes for me to do it if someone else is also doing it? Is that weird?”

It was a little weird. Derek shrugged. “I’m basically naked in someone else’s house jerking off. I don’t think I get to say what’s weird or not.” 

Honey boy giggled, gripping himself and starting to stroke. He obviously wasn’t joking about feeling more comfortable, he clearly didn’t care that Derek was watching him. Derek went back to stroking too with his right hand, and offered honey boy his left. “I’m Derek.”

“Simon.” Simon shook Derek’s hand while they both jerked it, which got both of them giggling a little. 

They didn’t talk much because that was hard when other things were hard, but they sure watched each other a lot because how did you not? And so, after a few sweaty minutes, when Simon asked, “Hey, want to swap hands?” Derek just grinned, licked his palm and moved over so he was hip to hip with Simon, taking his new friend in hand.

Derek wasn’t sure if he liked Simon’s hand on him or Simon’s dick under him better, but who was he kidding, it was Simon’s hand all the way, working him hard, knowing he wouldn’t break Derek but also not trying to do that. It felt so good, so nice. Derek wanted that, more of that. 

When Derek came it was with a shout and a smile and it shot all up his belly and chest and Derek didn’t even care that he didn’t have anything to clean it up with because it was so _nice_. And he grinned dopily at Simon, still stroking him. “That was awesome.” 

“This is awesome too and I haven’t even shot yet,” Simon said, eyes half closed.

Derek was so happy. He wanted to do something nice for Simon. A handjob was nice, but Derek knew something nicer and he got down on the floor, and without a word he took Simon’s dick in his mouth, sucking hard. 

“F-fuck!” Simon moaned, and he thrust his hips up and filled Derek’s mouth with salty emission in less than a minute. Derek swallowed with a gulp and Simon melted into the couch. “Fuck…that was so good, Derek…”

“Yeah.” Derek sat beside him again, just relaxing for a minute. It was nice. This was really nice and he liked it a lot. Derek liked nice things. “Want to hang out in here for a bit before we go back?”

“Hell yeah,” Simon said, grinning. “Probably just going to get hard again in ten minutes, so what’s the point of getting dressed when we’ll just be in here soon again?”

“I like the way you think,” Derek said. And he did. Mostly he liked the fact that Simon thought like a normal person instead of a nut-job. 

So they hung out in there together until there was no danger of bringing their hormones back to the party. And they got to know each other, and Derek made a friend. 

He was having such a good night.


	158. Theodore/Simon, Somnophilia (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more prompt from Spirit_Man, this one for Theodore and Simon and somnophilia. So beware the obvious nonconsensual aspects to all of that. :)

Simon, Theodore learned very quickly, was a very heavy sleeper. He was hard to wake up in the mornings after a full night of sleep, let alone if he hadn’t had enough. 

And he was always guarded, upset, shy. Which was one of his best qualities, his shyness, but Theodore wanted a look at him, a peek under his guard, to see what the boy really looked like. 

So, one night, Theodore kept the lamp lit, not touching Simon, just having him sleep there in the bed. And once Simon had eventually drifted off, Theodore sat up, smiling down at him, playing with his hair. His hair was so soft, and pretty. He was so pretty—one of the most beautiful boys Theodore had ever seen. Prettier probably than even Daniel, to whom Theodore couldn’t help but compare Simon. Simon was soft, round, and gentle where Daniel was hard-edged and sharp, his eyes always watching, always working. Simon’s eyes were pools, wide and watering, begging to be kissed. Theodore could look at Simon for hours without having to worry about what Simon was seeing when he looked back, because Simon saw people but he didn’t see through them like Daniel did. 

It was a comfort. 

And Theodore wanted to see more of Simon, unguarded, sleeping. So once Simon had fallen asleep, he pulled back the blankets, revealing his soft body in the lamplight, on display in an unconcerned way rather than in the self-conscious manner in which he was always nude while awake. 

He was so beautiful, pale and unbroken, unmarred. Theodore touched his face, ran a finger down his neck. So soft. He didn’t stir as Theodore’s hands explored his skin, touched his chest, his arms, lifted those up to touch under him. He was soft everywhere. His chest rose and fell with the low breaths of sleep, unbothered and unaware of Theodore’s attention. 

Theodore found that oddly fascinating after Daniel, who’d been hyper aware of every move he made, every touch he shared. It was…freeing, new, to be able to do what he liked without Simon knowing any better. 

Theodore would have liked to pretend he was a better man than he was, but he wasn’t, and so naturally his hands eventually wandered down to other parts of Simon that he was interested in. Yes, his legs, his feet, his toes. But then between those, to his soft penis, big for his age. Theodore began fondling it. 

It took only a few seconds of touching to get Simon hard; he was a healthy boy after all. He continued to sleep, unaware, and Theodore, wondering just how far he could go before Simon awoke, started to stroke him, enjoying the way that even in sleep Simon squirmed, just a little. 

Simon made a soft noise as Theodore gently spread his legs, licked a finger and slowly pressed at the boy’s entrance. A noise, but he didn’t wake, and before he even knew it Theodore had his finger inside Simon up to the knuckle. He was squirming a bit more now, face flushed, shoulders red as well. And he was starting to leak in Theodore’s hand, still stroking. 

Simon’s lips were parted as Theodore touched him, moving as if asking for something. Theodore slowly slid in a second finger, just to see. And as he got that in, he started to massage Simon’s prostate, enraptured by the way he moved, just little movements, jerky, but still unconscious. 

When Simon had his climax, it was quiet, with a soft moan that rang through Theodore. Simon’s body tensed, then relaxed, as he squirted onto his belly. 

And then his eyes fluttered open. “Nn…”

“Shh…” Theodore said, letting him go and touching his hair with his two clean fingers. “Go back to sleep.” 

“M’kay…” And Simon turned his head, falling back into that deep slumber. 

God, but he was beautiful. Theodore removed his fingers slowly, retrieved a towel to wipe them with and to clean Simon with as well. He relieved his own tension with the help of the towel as well, picturing just making an absolute mess of Simon with it instead—maybe he’d do that next time, clean it up. Simon would be none the wiser. 

He looked so happy, so peaceful, so pretty in his sleep. Simon was none of those things when he was frightened because of Theodore’s presence. 

So Theodore was happy to let him sleep. Perhaps they’d both like it better that way.


	159. Theodore/Simon, Noncon orgasms (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a request from Spirit_Man, who asked for Theodore and Simon with Simon climaxing against his will. I have other requests as well but I'll post them tomorrow--I just wanted to put something up tonight so I didn't feel like I'd missed an update. Hope you enjoy!

The gem in the collar was a yellow that came close to brown, not quite matching the honey colour of Simon’s hair but complimenting it nicely, especially with the gold in the chain itself.

It looked just right on Simon, Theodore thought as he clipped it on the boy in front of the mirror. It was too bad Simon wouldn’t stop marring his pretty face with tears. “Aren’t you going to at least open your eyes and take a look?”

Simon shook his head, whimpering.

Theodore sighed, hands running down Simon’s bare chest, watching their reflections in the mirror. His skin was so soft, so soft. “This is unlike you, Simon. You’re so brave normally.”

It was working, Daniel’s suggestion. But not tonight. Nothing could make poor Simon stop crying tonight. And Theodore wanted to respect that, give him more time. He wanted Simon to feel comfortable with him, like the other boys did. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed Simon in his bed tonight.

Theodore’s need pressed into Simon’s back as he held the boy tighter, caressing his soft skin. “That’s okay,” Theodore told him in a sigh. “I’ll show you it’s nothing to be afraid of. I won’t hurt you. You’ll even enjoy it.”

Simon just shook his head again, but this was something about which Theodore happened to be an expert. So he took Simon’s soft penis in one hand and started to stroke it gently, gently kissing the sides of his neck as he did. He played with Simon’s nipple as well, which got a gasp out of Simon.

Theodore noted that. He liked to know where his boys were sensitive.

Though he may not have wanted it, Simon was hard after a minute or so, and Theodore fixed his grip, and started masturbating the boy properly. “See?” he whispered, just loud enough to be heard over Simon’s crying. “It’s not so bad. You’re enjoying this more than you think you are.”

“No,” Simon sobbed, shaking his head again. “No. I don’t like it…”

“I think you do,” Theodore said, rubbing himself against Simon’s backside.

Simon was young and healthy and it only took him five more minutes to prove that he was enjoying it, body tensing as he came, semen splattering the mirror in front of him. Theodore watched his reflection as he orgasmed, his sadness wiped away by ecstasy for just a moment, one, precious moment.

Then Simon started crying even harder, and Theodore sighed. “Come,” he said, pulling away form Simon. He’d have happily rubbed himself against the boy until he came as well, but Theodore was a long way from that yet—the tears were making it harder—and he was impatient. “Surely it wasn’t that bad?”

But Simon, it seemed, had nothing to say, just standing there crying. It was…frustrating.

So, with a sigh, Theodore led him to the bed, lay him there. Simon complied, never resisting or fighting. He did everything Theodore bade him—except for stop crying.

Theodore spread Simon’s legs and poured oil on both his own hand and Simon’s member, still hard but softening. He took hold of that and got it to full strength again quickly, stoking Simon again as he inserted his fingers one at a time for stretching. He was patient and deliberate but not too slow. “See?” he asked, as he started sliding his fingers in and out. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Simon didn’t respond except with a sniff, his eyes still shut. He was clenched so tightly around Theodore’s fingers. “You must relax,” Theodore cautioned. “Or else it will be very difficult.”

“I don’t care,” Simon whispered. “I don’t care. I don’t want…ah…”

Theodore shook his head, pressing against Simon’s prostate. Eventually, if it felt good enough for the boy, he’d calm down and realize it wasn’t as bad as he’d made it out to be in his imagination. Doubtless the other boys had filled his head with horror stories about what Theodore was like. He ought not to have let Simon spend time with them—especially with Daniel.

But there was nothing to be done about it now. Theodore would show Simon that he wasn’t to be feared. He kept stretching the boy, until finally he got used to it, his breathing evening out a little. Tears still ran down his face, but Simon had stopped resisting quite so much, and relaxed. Theodore was able to widen him properly, still masturbating Simon as he did.

When he’d deemed it was enough, Theodore withdrew his fingers, smiling down at Simon. “Now,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.”

He moved between Simon’s legs, taking his own member in hand and making sure it was covered in enough oil to make entry easy. Then he started to push inside. Simon let out a loud whinge of discomfort, trying to tighten around Theodore again, but Theodore kept going, too lost in the tightness inside Simon to pull away now.

Simon cried out louder when Theodore was most of the way in, another orgasm making its way through him thanks to Theodore’s hand. Theodore smiled, leaning down to kiss Simon. “Not so bad,” he said.

With no energy to do much but lay there, Simon just shook his head, eyes still shut. Theodore gave a push, entering the rest of the way into Simon with a gasp. Stroking Simon’s hair out of his eyes, Theodore began moving.

He slid in and out of Simon, losing himself in the pleasure of it, the boy writhing under him, oversensitive, perhaps. Theodore did his best to ignore Simon’s crying, focusing instead on pleasuring both of them—not only himself, but showing Simon that he could enjoy this part too. The boys all learned this eventually, once they stopped being afraid.

How long Theodore was on inside of Simon he didn’t know. Simon’s crying was more of a distraction than he’d expected, which had the consequence of making Theodore last longer than he often did during this part. By the end of it he was covered in a sheen of sweat and tired with it, but he felt himself building to his orgasm and went slightly harder. “Not long now, Simon…”

Simon surprised Theodore then—he cried out something wordless, with the shape of a name, and he came again, finally opening his swimming eyes as if in shock. That alone was enough to drive Theodore over the edge, and he grunted as he finally hit his orgasm inside Simon.

When he was done, Theodore pulled out of Simon, stroking his hair, his face. “There, now. Seems you enjoyed that in the end, didn’t you?”

Simon shook his head, crying again. “No.”

“Very well,” Theodore said, sighing. He’d understand sooner or later. “Lying to yourself hurts only you, Simon. Let’s go have a bath.”

Simon wouldn’t move, so Theodore had to carry him. He was tired but satisfied. He felt like, despite the tears, he had made progress with Simon.

Simon would learn eventually. They all did.


	160. Henry/Terry, Masturbation (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by [an anon](https://underhandedpenguin.tumblr.com/post/180976514233/this-probably-sounds-really-weird-but-would-you). The notable warning here is that there's a pretty serious age difference between Henry and Terry.

The northern reaches of the Chavek River were fast-moving and warm, running down from the volcanic mountains. It was in between Zegid and Rh’eyltakak, but deserted, nobody out here. Henry was alone with Terry.

Henry was used to being alone with Terry, they’d been together for two years now. They were moving around Ech’kent, training until Henry was good enough to help Terry take down the Sorcerer King so they could both get their revenge. They’d just finished training for the day and were washing off in the river. 

“You’re improving,” Terry told Henry, as Henry washed under his arms.

Henry wanted to smile, but he just nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’m serious, Lord Henry,” Terry said. “You’re so much better a fighter than you were—and a lot stronger too.”

Henry felt his face redden, but that was just the heat of the river. “I should be. You’ve been training me for two years, Terry.”

Terry nodded, coming closer, putting his hand on Henry’s arm. “Maybe. But you’re the one who’s been putting in the work. Swinging the sword. Look at these muscles you’ve built up. I didn’t do that.”

Henry didn’t look at himself, but at Terry, who was way larger and more muscular than he was. “I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t show me how,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” Terry said, laughing. “I doubt it. You don’t really need me, Lord Henry.”

“Of course I do, Terry,” Henry said, turning in the water to face Terry. “I do need you, Terry.”

Terry smiled. “I hope so. God, look how much you’ve grown up, my lord.”

Henry blushed again. He was looking down. “Not that much.”

Terry snorted, and with no hesitation or shame, he reached down and took Henry’s dick in his hand. “Grown quite a lot. I’ve been seeing you bathe for two years, so I think I’d know what I’m talking about here.”

“Um…” Henry didn’t know what to say, really. “Thanks?” But he did know that someone touching him was enough to make him hard. Most things were enough to make him hard.

“Someone’s excited.”

“It’s because you’re touching it…that’s just what happens…” Henry said. Terry knew that, he’d talked to Henry about all this a while ago.

“I know. Are you touching yourself at night?”

“S-sometimes…” Not often. Henry was often too tired at night.

“You should, Lord Henry,” Terry chided. “It’s unhealthy to get all pent up.”

Henry nodded. “I never see you d-doing it…”

“You sleep later than I do,” Terry said. Henry noticed that he was hard too. Terry started to stroke Henry’s dick, making it feel even better than Henry’s hand normally did. Henry let him do it, liking it too much to stop.

But he did decide that he shouldn’t be selfish, and he reached out and touched Terry too. Well, it was partly selfish. He was curious; it was bigger than his. “Lord Henry…you don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Henry said, swallowing a moan. Terry was so much more skilled than he was, Henry already felt like he might cum.

And so he did. Holding back had never been something he’d figured out how to do, so Henry shot into the river, the water washing the evidence away immediately. Henry gasped and fell back, only for Terry to catch him. “There you go, careful…”

Henry nodded, straightening. “Th-thank you, Terry. I’m going to do you too. Don’t say I don’t have to.”

Terry just nodded, hands on Henry’s shoulders as Henry jerked him off. It took a good few minutes and Henry got a cramp in his wrist, but he did it—after a bit Terry gasped. “H…Lord Henry…” And he came, hard, spurting up into the air and onto Henry’s chest.

It should have been gross, but Henry giggled. “I guess you liked that, huh?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Henry,” Terry said, not quite holding back a laugh.

Henry grinned, wiped some of it off, into the river. “No big deal. Comes right off.”

“So it does,” Terry said, looking at Henry in a fond way that he never had before. “Let’s get it all cleaned off, then, and go eat, okay?”

Henry nodded, smiling, and the two of them went to do just that.


	161. Todd/Derek, Power Bottom (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request for Spirit_Man, who asked for Derek powerbottoming for Todd during the events of chapter 34. So there's that noncon element to this relationship and scenario even if it's slightly more consensual than usual this time. Hope you like!

“Surprised you can even fucking walk,” Todd growled at Derek as they picked their way back to their room after King Sam kicked them out. 

Derek shrugged, looking at the floor. He always looked at the floor when he walked. “Hurts. I’m fine.”

He wasn’t crying, which…pissed Todd off. He’d cried every other time. He cried every time Todd fucked him. But today he’d been fucked by Henry, who was bigger than Todd or the king and…he was fine. He was just looking at the floor. 

And right after, when Todd had gone for his turn, Derek had gotten aggressive, and had ridden Todd’s cock instead of laying there and crying like he was supposed to. 

And Todd didn’t like that. “Dumbass,” he accused. “He didn’t even hurt you. You laid there and let him do it. He was gentle with you.” Henry hadn’t been gentle with Todd. Why did Derek get better treatment than he did? Derek hadn’t even done anything except whatever he was told. At least Todd had tried to get back at the king for making his life hell. That was worthy of a respect Todd wasn’t getting. 

Derek shrugged. “I guess. I wonder why?”

“Because he knows you can’t fucking handle it, that’s why,” Todd grumbled. 

“And you can? I guess that makes sense.” Derek smiled in a way that made Todd think he was mocking him. “And here I was thinking it was because he liked me better.” 

Todd smacked Derek across the face as hard as he could, and Derek staggered back into the wall with a cry. “I’m going to fuck you as hard as I can when we get back to the room.”

Derek nodded, looking at the floor again. “Let’s go, then.” 

Stupid Derek didn’t even try to argue it. Todd would have tried to stop it, or run away, but Derek was too much a coward to even try. So they walked in silence to their room, and as soon as they were there, Todd pushed Derek to the ground. “Take your pants off.” 

Derek nodded, doing that while Todd undressed too. He shook himself to get hard, climbing down and pushing Derek’s legs aside. Derek spread them, smiling up at Todd. “Come on.” 

“I’m going,” Todd muttered, wanting Derek to cry. Why wasn’t he crying?

Todd pushed inside, and Derek took a breath, nodding. He was so slippery and stretched from Henry, so Todd just started going. “Harder,” Derek whinged.

“What…” Todd made a face, going harder. “Shut up.” 

Derek felt hot around him, and Todd pounded him mercilessly because unlike Henry, he didn’t care if Derek could take it. He deserved this. He deserved every thrust of it. Derek deserved to have it done to him and Todd deserved to be allowed to do it. 

“Todd,” Derek whinged. “ _Harder_. Fuck me properly, dammit!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Todd hissed, sweating. He was going as hard as he could. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” Derek complained. He wrapped his legs around Todd, bucking his hips, grabbing Todd’s hand and moving it down to his dick. “Come on, like that, aim higher.”

“Derek, fuck off!”

“No,” Derek said, glaring up at Todd. “You always do this wrong and I’m sick of it. If you’re going to fuck me, you can act like you know what you’re doing. You’ve been fucked enough times you must have had an orgasm from it at least once, God.” 

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m getting my ass fucked by an idiot,” Derek snapped.

Todd smacked him. “Shut up!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek spat, moving his hips. “Like this. Come on.” 

Todd had no choice but to follow along, move as Derek was showing him to move, his breath catching as he went harder and harder, faster and at a different angle, Derek squeezing around him. 

And Derek came before him, sighing happily. It was another few thrusts before Todd came as well into Derek’s clenching hole. 

Derek was smiling. Why was he smiling? “Again.”

“No,” Todd said, shaking his head. 

“Aw, come on, Todd! Do it again,” Derek ordered. Ordered.

“I’m done,” Todd said, disgusted. He pulled out, softening. “I can’t go again. Get dressed.” 

Derek made a face. “You only went once.”

“Twice. I fucked you in the room.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, got up. “Fine. Henry went three times.” 

“Henry’s…” Henry was a freak. Todd wasn’t about to be compared to him. “You’re such a slut.” He suddenly felt small. 

Derek shrugged. “Whatever. I’m going to have a bath.” 

And he grabbed his clothes and left the room, leaving Todd sitting there, wondering what the fuck had just happened. Except he knew what had just happened. 

They’d ruined Derek, Sam and Henry had ruined Derek, just like they’d ruined everything else he had. 

And Todd hated all of them for that.


	162. Isaac/Nicholas, "Studying" (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spirit_Man requested both this one and the next one, asking for Isaac helping Nicholas with a problem in his bum and ensuing sexy times. Enjoy!

Nicholas was fidgeting, which was unlike him. 

It had taken Isaac about half an hour to notice, engrossed as he was in hating history. “This is so fucking boring,” he complained. “Who cares about the Grant Raids across the Saints’ River?”

“Hugo,” Nicholas said, irritable. He shifted in his chair. “Will you just study instead of bitching?”

Isaac snorted. “What got stuck up your butt today? You’re grumpier than usual.”

Nicholas reddened kind of obviously. “Shut up. I just want to study for this stupid paper and go back to my room.” 

“You’re moving around a lot,” Isaac said, now that he was noticing. They were sitting in a small study room on the second floor of the dorm. “You want to swap chairs?”

“No, I want you to…”

“Study, I know.” Isaac sighed. He went back to reading, making notes as he did, then swapping with Nicholas so they could make sure they’d gotten the same thing out of the two books they were looking through. 

“Are you sure this is right?” Nicholas asked, still trying to find a comfortable way to sit. “This thing about the bridges?”

“That they collapsed? It was in the book.” 

“And…this part after about how the soldiers crossed the river naked to avoid their armour rusting?”

“That was in the book too.” 

Nicholas narrowed his eyes. “Let me see that book.” 

Isaac gave it to him. “You’re so untrustworthy, what, do you think I made it up?”

“You did try to tell me King Otto was having orgies in his bedroom every night.”

“He probably was. He looked like the type. I bet this army probably had a big one before they crossed the river, too. Cleaned up on their way over.” 

“Shut up. Huh. It does say that.” Nicholas made a note on his own assignment, which was longer than Isaac’s, but whatever. 

“Told you.” Isaac took the book back, frowning at Nicholas. “What is wrong with you? You’re moving around like crazy.”

“I’m fine,” Nicholas said, blushing again. 

“You don’t look fine. You can’t sit still, you’re twitching, you’re in a bad mood. What’s wrong?” Isaac pressed. “Were the twins too rough with you last night or something?” He happened to know, or at least heavily suspect, that Nicholas bottoming for them at the orgy had become a bit of a thing. 

Nicholas started to say something—another denial—and then stopped, looking at the door. “I…It’s embarrassing. If I tell you, you’ll tell everyone.” 

Isaac frowned. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

“Of course you would.” 

“When have I ever told everyone anything embarrassing about anyone else?” Isaac demanded. 

“Well…never, but…”

“Do you need help, Nicholas?”

So red in the face he might catch fire, Nicholas nodded. “Don’t laugh. It’s your fault.”

“I don’t even know what it is!”

“I…” Nicholas stopped, sighed. Then started again. “I stuck something inside.”

“Inside…”

“You know what I mean!”

Isaac did. “No,” he said. “Inside what? Your bag?”

“My ass, you fuckhead. I…thought it would be cool while I was jerking off. Don’t laugh.”

Isaac wasn’t laughing. “And it hurt?”

“No, it was fine. But…” Nicholas sighed. It seemed like it was causing him pain to say all this aloud. “It got stuck.” He said it so quietly it was hard to hear. 

Oh. “It got stuck.”

Nicholas nodded. 

“And it’s…still stuck?”

Another nod. 

“When did you stick it up there?”

“Last night.” 

“God, Nicholas. You’ve literally had something stuck up your ass all day?”

“I said don’t laugh.” 

“I’m not laughing.” Isaac very badly wanted to be laughing, and he’d laugh at Nicholas when this was all over. “Do you need help taking it out?”

“Yes! I can’t fucking reach it.” 

Isaac nodded. “Okay. You can count on me. Stand up, pull your pants down.” 

“What, right here?” Nicholas asked, alarmed. 

Isaac shrugged. “We can go to your room and do it in front of your roommates if you want.”

“No,” Nicholas said, voice a squeak. “No, here’s fine.” He stood up, unlacing his pants. “No funny business.”

“On my honour,” Isaac said, moving to get behind him. Nicholas dropped his pants and smallclothes to his knees, closing his eyes. “Bend over.” 

“Really?” Nicholas demanded. 

“Yes, really,” Isaac said. “I need unrestricted access, Nikky.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure.” Nicholas did bend over, though, and Isaac got down to take a good look. Nicholas’s hole was stretched with whatever was inside him, and Isaac could see the base of it maybe about an inch inside. He sucked on two fingers and slowly slid them in, trying to work them around the outside of the toy. “Why didn’t you come to me last night?” he asked. 

“I…fell asleep,” Nicholas admitted. 

“With this inside you?”

“I didn’t get a chance to try and take it out!” That last word came out as a yelp as Isaac stretched Nicholas further. “The others came back just after I…finished. I barely cleaned up in time.” 

“Hm,” Isaac said, nodding. “Seeing as they’ve all fucked you before, I can’t imagine they’d be that worried that you put something up here for fun.” 

“It was embarrassing, okay?”

“You need to learn to be more comfortable with your body,” Isaac chided, managing to move the toy around a bit. It was really stuck in there. “Was it at least a good cum?”

“Yes,” Nicholas said with an irritated sigh. “Don’t push it in farther!”

“I have to so I can get a better grip on it. Jerk off if you want,” Isaac said, since Nicholas was hard. He was hard too, in his pants. “Just try to stay relaxed.”

“Not going to jerk off,” Nicholas muttered. “That’s what got me into this mess.”

Isaac snorted. He worked quietly for a few minutes, moving the toy around, before he finally got a good grip on it and was able to pull it out, slowly so he didn’t hurt Nicholas. “There,” he finally said, standing up with the toy in his hand. It was a few inches of polished wood. “Where’d you get this?”

“Bought it,” Nicholas muttered as Isaac set it on the table. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Isaac patted Nicholas’s butt. “Anything for you.” Idly he reached into his own pants, tugging at his erection. “Hey, not to be all opportunistic, but you’re here and stretched and bent over…”

Nicholas sighed. “Just do it.” 

Isaac didn’t need to be asked twice. He grinned, pushed his pants down and licked his hand to lube himself up, then he pressed himself against Nicholas’s well-stretched hole and pushed inside with little difficulty at all. “You should use that toy more often,” Isaac said as he started moving.

“Never…using it again…”

“Shame.” Isaac grinned. “You know. You could have used Dark to just pull it out.” 

Nicholas went still underneath him, but that didn’t stop Isaac. “You…you could have done that!”

Now Isaac laughed, fucking Nicholas at a good pace. He’d never have imagined this would happen six months ago. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Asshole.” 

“Maybe,” Isaac agreed. All the foreplay—not that it had been that at the time, but it totally was now—had gotten him too excited to last long. 

He couldn’t talk much after that, too engrossed. He fucked Nicholas hard, grunting and panting all the way. And after a few minutes Isaac started to feel hot, then he came, pushing deep inside Nicholas to do so. “Ah, good…”

“Y-yeah…” Nicholas agreed, shuddering. He came too a moment later, splattering the table with his cum. “Damn…you’re too good at that for someone who never does it…”

“I know my trade,” Isaac sighed. He pulled out, spent. For now. “Thanks.” 

“You too. It was…” Nicholas paused in the act of standing, looking down at the table. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

“You…you made me cum all over my assignment!”

“What?” Isaac looked, and yes, Nicholas had indeed shot all over his paper. “Oops.” 

“Not oops! We need to fix this!”

Isaac shrugged. “Just hand it in like that, whatever. It’ll be dry by tomorrow.” 

“That’s…I’m not handing in an assignment with cum on it, and I’m not writing it again. Come on.” Nicholas started to pull up his pants, stuffing his things in his bag. “We need to find a cleaning spell. Come with me to the library.” 

“Why?” Isaac didn’t see why he had to come.

“Because this is all your fault. Come on.” 

Isaac just sighed and started packing up his stuff. At least this was way more fun than history, he figured.


	163. Isaac/Nicholas, "Studying" 2 (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the direct follow up from the previous one, featuring Nicholas getting some (consensual) revenge. :)

Isaac wasn’t a big fan of the library. It was okay, but it was full of books and reading really wasn’t his favourite thing, and he had to be quiet, which he wasn’t good at. He always felt like the librarians were just waiting for an excuse to kick him out. 

But here he stood, browsing for cleaning spells to help Nicholas clean the cum from his homework, forbidden from asking for help because Nicholas didn’t want anyone knowing what had happened. 

Isaac had handed in homework with dried cum on it once. Nobody had even noticed. But whatever. 

He stood in the stacks, looking through books with a globe of light above his head, looking for something useful. Almost all cleaning spells specified that they’d even remove ink, which was the one thing they didn’t want to remove. So that was annoying. 

The one he was looking at seemed really complicated and Isaac didn’t understand half the instructions, so that was out. The rest of the book seemed useless too. 

This would never have happened if Nicholas had taken more care not to get stuff stuck up his butt. Isaac smiled at the memory even though it hadn’t been long ago. A literal stick up his butt. He wondered how long friend etiquette said he had to wait before he could start making jokes. 

“Not you,” Isaac said, floating the book back onto the shelf with Dark and pulling the next one to look through the index. “Let’s see…”

There was hardly anyone in the library, which was nice, but it just made Isaac feel isolated and weird, like he was in some strange sacred place or something. It was just books, he told himself. Nothing to be afraid of. 

Still, he jumped when an arm wrapped around his middle. “Hey.”

“H-hey…” Isaac said to Nicholas. “Didn’t hear you.” 

“Yeah. How’s it going?” 

“Not great,” Isaac admitted. “If you want to make your paper read out your homework aloud I can make that happen, though.” 

Nicholas snorted. “No, thanks.” He was pressed up against Isaac. 

And he was hard. “Distracted?”

“I was thinking,” Nicholas said. “That I should get you back for earlier. Making a mess on my homework.” 

“You made the mess,” Isaac reminded him. “I made the mess in your pants, but not the one on your work.” 

“Not an important distinction,” Nicholas muttered. He pushed Isaac’s pants down with his other hand, but only in the back, still leaving him trapped in the front. “Be quiet or someone will catch us.” 

Isaac nodded, as Nicholas took his own boner out. Isaac reached down to do the same, but his hands caught on nothing, Nicholas moving them with Dark until both were pinned above his head, against the shelf. “Nope.” 

“Nicholas…”

“Shh…” Nicholas said. Isaac could feel him doing more magic, and when he stuck his dick in, it was already wet with something, popping and then sliding in with no difficulty. Nicholas obviously wanted to be in control, so Isaac let him have his way, just enjoying the ride and focusing on staying quiet. It was hard, not something Isaac normally did. But he was managing so far. 

Nicholas fucked him as must as the position allowed, one arm around Isaac’s middle and the other on his hip, and Isaac did his best not to move as he did. It was good—Isaac really liked being with Nicholas even if Nicholas was kind of bad at it. It was something he found endearing about him, and what Nicholas lacked in skill he made up for in enthusiasm. 

Nicholas’s hold on Dark faltered as he came, but Isaac did the polite thing and kept his hands in place, hoping that Nicholas’s grand revenge wasn’t to fuck him and go without getting Isaac off. At least Nicholas had gotten to cum. 

But no, with his breath falling heavy on Isaac’s neck, Nicholas kept going after he’d finished shooting, still holding Isaac. “You’re going to cum soon,” he muttered. “I’ll keep fucking you until you do.”

“Some punishment…”

Nicholas just snorted and kept going. And, true to his prediction, it was only about five more minutes before Isaac was tensing up, letting out a small whimper as he came in the pants Nicholas hadn’t let him take off. Oh, maybe that was the revenge. Isaac was going to have to walk out of here with a stain on his pants. 

He could live with that.

And he could live with Nicholas’s dick still in his ass, which it was. Nicholas was obviously lost in fucking him, and kept going for a good while until he shot again, sighing. “That’s better,” he muttered. 

“Yeah…”

Nicholas nodded, feeling Isaac’s crotch. “Hold still.” 

“You see me moving?”

A snort, and Nicholas felt like magic again. When he took his hand away, Isaac’s front was clean. “Oh, good, it worked.”

“What?”

Nicholas smiled. “The cleaning spell I found. Wanted to test it. Thanks for the help.” 

Isaac laughed. “Anytime. Has anyone ever told you that you suck at revenge?” he asked as Nicholas pulled out. “You don’t usually give someone what they like.” 

Nicholas smirked, and suddenly something else was pressing against, and into, Isaac’s hole. All the way in it went, polished wood, until it was past Isaac’s sphincter and stuck firmly inside him. “There you go.” He pulled Isaac’s pants up for him, giving him a slap. “Better use that cleaning spell again, your backside is all messy.” 

“This feels pretty cool, actually,” Isaac said, grinning. 

“See how you feel after a few hours.” Nicholas was smiling too. “Don’t take it out. Not that you can—I found a few interesting looking spells while I was researching that should make that impossible.” 

“What…” Isaac did feel the thing tingling a little with magic. “How long are you going to…”

Nicholas shrugged. “At least until tonight. If you’re nice to me I’ll take it out before you go to sleep. If not, maybe I’ll take it out tomorrow sometime. Who knows?”

“Jerk,” Isaac said, shifting. He’d had stuff up his ass for half his life, but never while he was just hanging out in public. “Fine. But I’m going to love every second of it.” 

“We’ll see.” Nicholas clamped his hand around Isaac’s wrist. “One of the spells should stop you from cumming as long as you’re touching the toy.” 

“Woah, wait, what?”

“Come on,” Nicholas said. “I’ve got to clean my assignment and then we need to finish studying.”

And he pulled Isaac away and back to work, and Isaac realized that Nicholas was really much better at revenge than he’d given him credit for.


	164. Edwin/Erik, Jingle Bells (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of news that I'm going to share on all my stories is that with Tumblr's new adult content policy, I've decided not to contine posting the story there any longer. If you have a burning desire to interact with me on social media, there's a series [Discord](https://discordapp.com/invite/YaMctWq) server for chatting with me and other readers, my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/HBtUaSPenguin?lang=en) if you only want me in bite-sized chunks, and my [new blog](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/) if you want an alternate way to read the chapters. And of course I'll still be posting here first and always! Thanks for all your support! 
> 
> With that out of the way, this was combined request from Spirit_Man and Folken on Discord, one request for Christmas sex and the other for Edwin wearing jingly reindeer antlers. Hope you like!

“If you literally say anything,” Edwin warned.

“Edwin the red-nosed cutie.” 

“I’m taking them off,” Edwin declared, reaching up to take them off. He jingled as he moved. 

“Had a very shiny dick,” Erik teased.

“I hate you.” 

“And if you ever saw it…”

“I’m going to punch you in the face.” 

“You would bend him over too.” 

“That doesn’t even rhyme!” Edwin said, scowling at Erik. “If you’re going to make fun of me, at least do it right.” 

“Sorry,” Erik lied, getting up and poking at the stupid jingly reindeer antlers Edwin had on his head. In addition to those, he was also wearing a short pair of furry shorts—with a fucking tail coming out the back—and some suspenders in the shape of a harness. “It’s a good look for you.” 

“Literally where did you even find this?” Edwin demanded. Though the more pressing question was why he’d put it in on the first place. “Nevermind, it was the internet. I can’t wear this to a party.” 

“You could if you wanted to,” Erik said, jingling the bells on the harness as he ran his finger down it, brushing past Edwin’s nipple. 

“There are going to be people we know there.” 

“They all know you.” Erik smiled. “What if you wore it under a sweater and jeans?”

Edwin’s blush deepened. “I’ll…think about it.” Erik was wearing a cheap Santa costume, which looked too nice on him considering it had cost about ten dollars. 

“That’s my brother,” Erik said, and he grabbed the harness and turned Edwin around, rubbing a hand over his butt. “Hm. You’re too tempting like this.” 

Oh, right, that was why Edwin had put the stupid thing on. Because of the one hundred percent chance that Erik would fuck him if he did. “What are you going to do about that?”

“I think my reindeer needs a little bit of training,” Erik said, undoing the suspenders and pulling Edwin’s shorts down by the tail. “Ho, ho, ho.” 

“You’re so tacky.”

Erik snorted, snapping the harness and getting a jingle. He stuck two wet fingers inside Edwin, and poked around in his hole while he felt around for the lube that Edwin knew was nearby. Edwin tried to hold still so the bells wouldn’t go off and mostly failing. 

Regrettably, the antlers were tight enough on Edwin’s head that they didn’t fall off when he ducked it, and Erik removed his fingers at the jingle, lining up his cock. Edwin let out a breath to relax, and then a small grunt as Erik made his way inside. 

Erik gripped Edwin’s hips as he started to thrust, and the bells all over Edwin’s body jingled as he was moved back and forth. Erik did that a few times, then stopped, and Edwin could hear his smirk. 

And Erik proceeded to move Edwin as much as he possibly could while he fucked him, shaking him like a goddamned jingle bell as he went. “This…isn’t as hot as you think it is…” Edwin groaned, because it still felt good.

“Maybe, but it’s fucking hilarious,” Erik told him, and he just kept doing it. 

Edwin rolled his eyes, resigning himself to Erik being annoying, and just tried to ignore all the fact that he was a Christmas carol on all fours and focus on Erik inside him. 

It wasn’t long before, in a rattle, Erik came, shooting inside Edwin where Edwin liked him, holding Edwin firmly now. The jingling didn’t stop, though, Edwin shaking himself with need. He hadn’t quite gotten there, the sound distracting him more than it should have and taking him away from the experience, and he knew Erik well enough to know what was going to happen now. 

Sure enough, Erik pulled out, patting Edwin’s ass. “Good little reindeer.” 

“I hate you.”

“Is that how you talk to Santa?” Erik asked, giving a pinch. “Someone’s trying to get on the naughty list.” 

“Pretty sure being there is good for me,” Edwin said, trying to move. Erik’s hand on his leg kept him in place, and then a moment later something was stuck inside him. “What, Erik!” 

“Can’t have you making a mess of those pants,” Erik said. “Besides, it’s Christmas themed. A candy cane dildo. One more thing.” He grabbed the harness and stood Edwin up, then tied a ribbon around the base of Edwin’s leaking cock. “There, perfect.” 

Edwin shifted uncomfortably, the bells jingling. There was a bell on the cock ribbon too. “You suck.” 

“Maybe, but I bet you will too after the party,” Erik said, pulling Edwin’s stupid little shorts up and re-attaching the suspenders, letting the head of Edwin’s cock poke out over the waistband. Then, still smirking, he snapped a photo of Edwin. Edwin just sighed and let him do it. “Come on, show some Christmas spirit.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Edwin said. He had a lot of Christmas spirit. He wasn’t sure he’d needed it up his ass, but he was perfectly happy. “Merry Christmas or something. Can I get dressed now?”

“If you must,” Erik sighed. “Keep the antlers on though.”

Edwin rolled his eyes, but he did. He kind of liked them.


	165. Peter, Jesus Would Approve (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I got the Christmas Sex prompt from the last chapter, I wanted to do a second one instead of just one, so I randomly generated Peter's name and this happened. Enjoy!

Peter actually really liked Christmas. He liked the gift giving and the general idea of cheer, and he liked the whole Jesus came to rescue humanity bit, that was pretty useful as far as he was concerned. Christmas was a good day all around. 

He did not like his parents’ compulsory over-the-top Christmas party, in which they rented a hall, filled it to the brim with decorations and people and money, hired a bad band to play annoying music and talked about Jesus in a way that would have made Jesus gag. 

Peter was pretty sure the whole thing would make Jesus gag, to be honest. He was pretty sure that Jesus would hate his parents. And he’d never been sure how it was that his parents hadn’t come to the same conclusion—as far as he knew they were all reading the same Bible. 

Anyway, Peter liked Christmas but not the Christmas party, but at least this year he’d found a way to make the party more tolerable. 

“Little harder,” Peter said, gripping the handle in the toilet stall with one hand and his covered dick in the other. 

Matthew grunted, speeding up a little, one arm around Peter’s middle. “B-better?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah.” The new speed came with a slightly different angle that had Matthew hitting Peter’s prostate, which was nice. After a few more minutes, Peter was grunting and he came, filling up the condom he was wearing for the express purpose of not making a mess. Matthew kept fucking him as he came down from it, soon shooting into his own rubber inside Peter. 

With a long sigh, Matthew pulled out of him, staggering back and sitting on the toilet. “Wow. Merry Christmas.” 

Peter snorted. “You too, Matthew. Hope you’re enjoying the party.” It was a bit tacky, the holiday greetings, but most of them had done it so far. 

“Much less boring now, I have to admit,” Matthew said, with a lopsided grin. He was cute, in a bulky way that Peter liked. He pulled off his condom, making a bit of a mess, and watched as Peter tied his before doing up his pants. “You, uh. Do this a lot?”

Peter smiled at him. “Just when I’m bored.” 

The two of them got dressed properly, tossed the condoms in the garbage and slowly went to rejoin the party. “Maybe I’ll…see you later?” Matthew offered. He looked a little dazed. Peter hoped that hadn’t been his first time. It wasn’t a great way to lose one’s virginity. 

Peter kissed him on the cheek before anyone could see them, leaning on his cane to do so. “I hope so. See you, Matthew.” 

Peter didn’t know Matthew Hardhold, or at least he hadn’t, but his parents knew Matthew’s mom and he’d been instructed to socialize with the guests closer to his age. So he was, in the way that Isaac had taught him. 

Peter had used to think that Isaac knew all kinds of weird magic tricks to convince so many people to bang him. But it turned out it was pretty easy. A few choice words and a significant look was usually enough. Three people so far tonight had shown that much. Peter was getting a little sore, but he wanted to try for at least one more.

His goal was to develop a reputation among the children of his parents’ friends and donors—a reputation his parents would hate. Peter didn’t hate his parents, but he did hate what they did for a living and they didn’t like him much, so he figured he may as well. 

“Peter,” dad said, taking him by surprise as he looked for Kieran Wrathwate, the last guy he’d hoped to get into the bathroom. “Where have you been? I was looking for you.” 

“I was talking to Matthew Hardhold,” Peter said, nodding at him. “Socializing.” 

Dad seemed suspicious, but he always did. “Good,” he finally said, eyeing Peter. “Socialize in here next time. There’s no reason for you to keep spiriting people away to talk to them.” 

Peter shrugged. “Nobody wants to talk where their parents might overhear. How are we supposed to talk about girls and drugs with you ten feet away?”

“Peter, that’s not funny.” 

“Whatever, dad,” Peter rolled his eyes. “I mean I can try talking about God, but people don’t really go for that as much as you think.”

“Peter Joshua Swiftheart,” dad said, in the warning voice. “It is Christmas, don’t sully it with your attitude.” 

“Okay, okay, no girls,” Peter agreed with a sigh. “I’ll talk about boys instead. I’m joking.” He added as dad opened his mouth. “It’s called a joke, dad, people like those nowadays.”

Dad gave him another one of those suspicious looks. “Just don’t offend anyone. There are a lot of potential donors in here, and a lot of political types who can help support the church. I’m not losing out on opportunities because you’re trying to be funny.” 

Peter sighed, squeezing his cane’s handle in his hand. He always kind of wanted to hit his parents in the shins. “Don’t worry, dad. I’m doing the Lord’s work too.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” dad said, looking over Peter’s shoulder. “Look, there’s Dominic Purdy. I’ll be back.”

“I’m going to hunt down Kieran Wrathwate, I haven’t seen him yet tonight and it’s rude for me not to socialize with him too,” Peter said, but dad already wasn’t listening, putting on a fake smile and going to talk to Dominic. 

Peter rolled his eyes and searched the room for Kieran. Jesus, he was quite sure, would approve.


	166. Travis/Joey, Reunion (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else was banging on the boat, you didn't think I'd go without showing our favourite dragon and his human, right?

They barely had the go-ahead from Cal’s guys before Joey pushed Travis on the bed and started kissing him like they’d never kissed before, and almost immediately Travis forgot that they weren’t alone in the room. 

“I missed you,” Joey said, in between kisses. “I missed you so much, so much.” He was holding Travis’s arms carefully but firmly, his claws pressing but not cutting. Travis had a feeling he’d be bleeding by the time he fell asleep, but he didn’t care. 

“I missed you too,” Travis said back, pulling Joey a little higher so they could kiss more comfortably. “So much. I love you so much.” 

They lay like that for a good few minutes, kissing and holding each other, until Joey looked down at him, eyes sparkling. Travis smiled. “You want to take off your clothes?”

Joey nodded, showing his teeth. “I want to take off _your_ clothes.” 

Travis smiled, though part of him hesitated, remembering what had been done to him. “Let’s do yours first,” he suggested.

“No,” Joey said, sitting up and tugging at Travis’s shirt. “Come on. I’m not afraid of your scales, I have scales too.” 

“Not quite like this,” Travis said, even as he took off his shirt. That Joey didn’t care about his transformation was something he’d expected—other than being angry that someone had done this to him against his will, he loved Travis either way—but that didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened. Mostly, Travis knew, the issue was that he wasn’t himself entirely comfortable with it yet. He’d get there, since he didn’t have a choice. 

Wes and Mick and helped him out a lot with that in the fortress. None of them were happy, but they’d helped each other. And now Travis was here, three feet away from where Wes and Mick were already in their smallclothes kissing Cal senseless. Go figure. 

Travis got his shirt off and let Joey—very gently—stroke his chest, looking at the scales, which were steadily turning the yellow-white of the bedding underneath him. “Do they always change colour?” he asked. 

Travis nodded. “I can’t make it stop. If I didn’t have clothes on I’d just always blend into whatever’s behind me.” 

Joey made a face. “Hm. So if you were naked you’d be invisible? That sucks. I want to be able to see you.”

Travis laughed, kissed Joey. “Not invisible. Just a little hard to see.” 

“Okay,” Joey said, brushing Travis’s pants. “Take these off before I tear them.”

“Take yours off too,” Travis chuckled. Joey hadn’t gotten any more patient while he’d been gone. 

“I, uh, might need help,” Joey said, holding up his claws. 

Travis nodded, reaching up and touching one. “I guess I’m not the only one who changed a little. Does this mean you’re closer to being able to transform all the way?”

“I hope so. I’m going to talk to Louis about it tomorrow.” Joey sounded impatient. “Pants? Please?”

“Okay, okay.” Travis had stalled all he could. He undid his pants, slid them and his smallclothes down, pushed them off with his boots. And he looked down at the bed, letting Joey get a look at him. “It’s not as bad as it seems.” 

“Where…where’s your dick?” Joey asked, reaching out as if to touch it. “There’s nothing there! Did they…”

“No, no,” Travis said, taking Joey’s claw and smiling. He pointed down at himself, at the small opening between his legs. “It’s not gone. It’s just inside.” 

“Inside.” Joey looked down, worrying his lip. “How does it come out?”

“Same was as getting a boner.” Travis was trying to be calm about this, which was easier because he’d had a while to get used to it. He’d had a bit of a panic himself when he’d woken up without a familiar presence between his legs. “Look.” 

He rubbed at his opening, thinking about Joey, and a second later, his dick started to emerge, red and wet from whatever was in there, but otherwise mostly the same except for being a bit broader. Joey watched, fascinated, and smiled when it stopped. “Well. Okay. It still works, right?”

Travis nodded. “I tested it out, just in case.” It had been his first priority too. 

Joey sighed. “Good. Someday I’ll kill all the demons for you, Travis. I promise.” 

Travis’s heart fluttered at that, delivered in a near-growl. “Okay. But for now let’s take your clothes off.” He wished Joey could touch him, but those claws were a bit ominous.

Joey nodded, and he let Travis reach over and take his shirt over his head, tearing a sleeve a little but otherwise not doing too much damage. Then he took Joey’s pants off with no incident except for Joey’s dick slapping him when it was freed, which made Travis laugh and Joey fall back a little, smiling. He looked up at Travis. “Yours is already wet.” 

“Yeah, it’s always slicked up when it comes out.” 

“Then put it inside?” Joey asked. “Please?”

“Did you forget about foreplay again?”

“I missed you too much for foreplay. We’ll do that next time. I want you to fuck me, Travis. Now.” 

That was what Travis wanted too. So he climbed on top of Joey, between his legs, and lined up his new and improved dick with Joey’s hole. “I missed you so much,” he said again as he started to push inside with no other preparation because he knew Joey liked it that way. 

Joey nodded, breathing steady as Travis pushed inside, his dick twitching a little. He was relaxed but tight around Travis, who was confirming something he’d thought with his hand too—he was more sensitive than he’d used to be, every part of him that was covered in Joey feeling like it had been struck by lightning. 

They moaned in tandem as Travis got all the way inside Joey, Joey looked up at Travis. “You’re bigger,” he declared.

“Just a bit,” Travis agreed. It had been a trade-off. Panting, he started to move inside Joey. “I’m not going to last long…haven’t in a few days…”

Joey nodded. “Okay. Just keep going as long as you can.” 

Travis nodded, but it turned out that as long as he could was about two more minutes before he thrust hard and came inside Joey with a moan. Joey gave him a minute to recover once he was done shooting, but then moved his hips. “Come on,” he said, impatient.

Travis knew Joey well enough to knew that he wasn’t anywhere near done, so he started moving again, enjoying the feeling of his own cum moving around as he fucked Joey. Joey hooked his arms around Travis’s by the elbows, keeping his claws clear, and moved his hips in tune, getting Travis to go faster. 

Travis went as fast as he could, fucking Joey harder, urgency entering him as he got lost in Joey’s scent, in the feeling of his skin, in the sounds he was making, in the fact they were together again. And when Joey came with a tensing of his muscles, Travis fucked him all the harder, letting Joey paint the space between them while he worked up to an orgasm too, and filled Joey up even more, leaking out on to the sheets. 

Travis felt his dick start to pull out, retracting inside him, and he panted, tired out. “Hey,” Joey said, frowning. “Why are you pulling out?”

“Uh…happens kind of automatically after I cum a few times,” Travis said, apologetic. He wasn’t really sure why or how to stop it. “Sorry?”

Joey shook his head. “It’s not your fault.” He smiled up at Travis. “I guess it means it’s my turn to top.”

Travis chuckled, tingling in anticipation. “I guess so.” He rolled over, let Joey climb on top of him. He used Joey’s cum to slick Joey up, and his own fingers to stretch himself a little. It had been a good while since he’d had anything but fingers up there, after all. 

“You don’t have any new changes to this part, right?” Joey asked as he lined himself up.

“Not that I know of,” Travis said, shaking his head. “Go ahead.” 

Joey nodded, claws on either side of Travis as he pushed in unaided, probably for fear of slicing something important. Travis reached down to help him aim and stay on track until he was a good few inches in. Then he grabbed the sheets, forcing himself to relax and let Joey inside. 

It stung more than he remembered, bordered on hurting even, but Travis breathed through it, let it happen. He loved Joey so much, and he knew Joey loved him. To distract himself, he moved up and bit Joey on the collarbone, earning a growl, a bite back and a hard thrust. 

That seemed to have put Joey in possessive mode, and suddenly he was going harder, claws on Travis’s arms as he thrust the rest of the way inside Travis steadily, fucking Travis open wide. Travis felt cuts open on his arms, small ones, but he didn’t care, just kept kissing Joey, biting him, marking him, letting Joey mark him back. He loved Joey with everything he had and he loved nothing more than showing that on his body. 

His dick came back out after a few minutes but Travis didn’t touch it, didn’t need to. He was riding the waves of pleasure from Joey being inside him again, pounding him all the way, bottomed out inside Travis. Joey grunted and growled and groaned and Travis listened to it all, felt it all, loved it all, and he came again before Joey did, with a growl that almost approached a roar, giving a few hard thrusts that would leave Travis limping in the morning before pulling out and coating him with dragon cum, marking him by scent. 

Then Joey collapsed on top of him, kissing Travis before just laying his head on Travis’s shoulder. “Not done,” he muttered. “Just…love you.” 

“Love you too,” Travis said, idly noticing that Sully had joined Wes and Mick and Cal at some point. “Thanks for rescuing me.” Joey’s cum was smeared between them, and he liked that. 

“Of course. I’d have torn that whole fortress apart by myself if I’d had to.” 

Travis smiled into Joey’s horns, kissing the nearest one. “I know you would have.” 

He held Joey in place a few minutes before they were ready to go again, thankful to have his dragon back where he belonged.


	167. Denver/Louis, If You Want Casual Sex, Going to A Dragon Is A Good Bet (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting for these two to meet forever and a half. 
> 
> Not a hundred percent sure what to do with them yet--part of me wants more chapters of them, but I'm not going to give them a full-on story to themselves. If you see me post this again in a separate story later, it's because I've decided on one of my three options.
> 
> Enjoy!

The path up to the crow’s nest was mostly a lot of netting, which was problematic because climbing netting was always a tricky proposition with a boner sticking out. There was a not inconsiderable risk that the boner would stick into a hole in the netting and get stuck, which in the best case would make it slap up when it got free, and in the worst end in a net-dick tangle that was really painful to get free.

But Denver was fucking determined to get fucking, so he was careful to avoid rope-burn as he climbed, which was doubly impressive since he hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on. 

Denver was the most impressive, especially when he needed to get laid. And yes, he’d already gotten laid a few times tonight, and that had been fun. But none of the guys who’d fucked him had been an honest-to-God actual dragon. 

And Denver really wanted to get fucked by an honest-to-God actual dragon. 

Fortunately, he knew where one was sleeping, and he got up to the crow’s nest without any trouble, climbing into the basket. 

Dragon snorted, scratching his chest in his sleep. He was taking up most of the space in the nest, mostly courtesy of his wings, which were spread out behind him. He was snoring gently. Denver smiled, sitting on the edge of the nest and watching him sleep for a minute. 

He was really hot, which Denver appreciated. Horns, tail and wings notwithstanding, he was leanly built but muscular, pointed in the right places, hair looking nice and soft against his forehead, that scar on his face really adding to his rugged demeanor. And his dick was resting on his belly, inviting with its very existence. Denver sighed a little dreamily. 

“Waking up a sleeping dragon is a bad fucking idea.”

Denver nearly pitched backwards, not having noticed that Dragon’s eyes were open, reflecting moonlight. He regained his composure, smiling. “Fucking was the idea, actually.”

Dragon snorted again, shifting a little, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are all humans this straightforward?”

“Only the interesting ones,” Denver told him. He wondered who else had been that straightforward. 

Dragon looked at him a moment, assessing Denver, looking his body up and down. Denver smiled, not ashamed. “Fine,” Dragon said, shrugging. “It took me forever to get comfortable up here and I’m not moving. You want it that bad, you can do the damn work, human.”

“Denver.”

“Don’t care.” He shut his eyes again. “Do your thing.” 

Denver got down on his knees, taking Dragon in his hand. “Was thinking I’d do your thing.”

“Cute.”

“So they tell me.”

“Do you have to talk?”

“Do you have to be a jerk?”

“No, I just choose to.”

Denver rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

“I know.” Dragon said smugly. 

Whatever, they were going to fuck, not get married. Denver didn’t need him to have a decent personality. The angle slightly awkward, Denver took the dragon into his mouth, letting himself drool as he sucked the top bit of it, getting it as wet as he could. 

Once Denver deemed it slick enough he pulled up, giving one more rueful look at the dragon’s closed eyes, and straddled his prey, taking the dick in hand and lining it up with his hole. Dragon still didn’t say anything, but he had a bit of a smug expression on his face and Denver could sense why. He didn’t think Denver was going to be able to take him. 

Denver was about to prove him very, very wrong.

He relaxed himself, sitting on the head of Dragon’s cock. Denver sighed as he felt it penetrate him, going in without too much trouble—it was thick, but Denver was no beginner. Dragon snorted as Denver slid down, and when the entire head popped past his entrance, Denver grinned. This was going to be good. 

Denver rocked himself back and forth as he slid down, fucking his way onto the whole of his dragon cock. It was a long process, a process of relaxation, of exertion, of determination. More and more of it went in, but it felt never-ending, and even as it started to burn, Denver found himself hoping it never did. 

He’d never felt so full, so stretched, so challenged, and he kept pushing, moaning now and then as he got a particularly good thrust in, swinging his hips back and forth like his life depended on it and…

And when he felt his ass hit Dragon’s pubic bone, Denver came with a shout, spraying the dragon with his satisfaction. 

Smiling, Denver just sat there a moment, hands on his dragon’s chest, letting himself get used to it. And when he opened his eyes, he saw the dragon looking up at him in something like wonder. “What?” Denver asked, panting. “Didn’t think I could do it?”

“I have to admit I didn’t,” he said, eyes wide. They were nice eyes, fiery and dark. 

Denver grinned at him. “Come on now. It’s not _that_ big. In fact, I think it’s just the right size for me.” 

“That so?” Dragon asked. 

Denver nodded, and he started to move again, feeling the dragon cock slide in and out of him as he went. “Just…right,” Denver breathed, sweating. 

He yelped when the dragon started moving too, thrusting upwards. “Th-thought you wanted me to do the work…” Denver said.

“Changed my mind.” The dragon started thrusting now, moving his hips shallowly up into Denver, growling a little as the angle made it awkward. He rose up suddenly, sitting and pulling Denver closer to him. Denver rode him like that for a while, not able to moan quietly, arms wrapped around the dragon’s neck since his wings stopped Denver from wrapping them around his chest. 

He kept trying to flex those wings, kept moving back and hitting his back on the wall of the crow’s nest, kept kicking the other side, kept growling, until he finally got tired of that and stood straight up with Denver in his arms and on his cock. “This is better,” the dragon decided. 

Denver nodded, liking the sensation of being held, being weightless. He wrapped his legs around his dragon’s waist, just above the tail, and let the dragon thrust into him like that, his hands on Denver’s hips to move him along. 

His arms and the dragon’s neck were sweaty and Denver kept slipping, so he leaned back a little, trusting his dragon to keep him up, and grabbed onto his horns for handles. The dragon took in a sharp breath and suddenly he was pounding Denver even faster, up and down, growls escaping him of a different tone this time. 

Denver couldn’t find himself in the ocean of pleasure, his whole world nothing but the dragon in front of him and the cock inside him, and it was so much and so good and so hard and Denver loved it so much that he pulled himself forward and kissed the dragon on the mouth as he came all over the dragon’s chest again. 

With a near-roar and his wings outstretched, the dragon came inside Denver, pulling away from the kiss to bite his neck instead, hard, hard enough to bleed, and Denver didn’t care because he was being filled up, cum burning into his insides with such force, leaking out even though he wanted it to stay in, more and more of it coming in so many spurts, seven, eight, nine full blasts inside him. 

When he was done the dragon let out a breath, still holding Denver loosely. Denver smiled at him, a little dopey from the force of his orgasms. “Thanks,” he said, giggling a little. 

The dragon smirked. “You’re welcome. I hope you don’t think I’m done.” 

Oh, good. “I hope you don’t think I am.” 

The dragon gave one thrust up into Denver, who gasped. “Good. Because now that you’ve woken me up, it’ll be a while before I fall asleep again.”

“You got a name?” Denver asked him. 

“Louis.” 

“Alright, Louis,” Denver said, shifting a little and giving him another kiss, followed by a gentle bite on the chin. “Keep me up all night.” 

And he did.


	168. Mick/Darby, Thank You (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the last requests I got on Tumblr before it killed itself was for Darby thanking Mick "orally" for helping him out. I filled it on the [new blog](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/26/can-i-request-a-grateful-darby-orally-if-you-know-what-i-mean-thanking-mick-for-helping-him-escape-the-demons/), and I hope that the anon who requested it is still around to see it!

Mick wasn’t the biggest fan of sea travel—he’d done it once before meeting Cal and it hadn’t been a great experience—but it sure as hell beat being cooped up in one small room that didn’t even have a window. The endless ocean was slightly unnerving, but after the cell the demons and kept him and Wes in, he could look at it for hours. 

Maybe not hours, but a few minutes, in passing as he wandered around to stretch his legs. It was nice to have somewhere to walk, and to not be in a warded room where he couldn’t use his magic, and to not be living in constant anxiety that the demon named Tabitha was going to show up again and drag him—or worse, Wes—away for something awful. 

All in all, Mick thought, being free was better than being imprisoned. A definite step up. Something he’d recommend to all his friends and family. 

He was sitting near the stern of the ship behind some crates, watching the white water move in the wake of the large vessel. It was about as close to privacy as one got on a ship, so Mick sat here from time to time just to have a few minutes to think. 

He’d had his few minutes this time when he heard rapid footsteps, then what was pretty distinctly the sound of someone sniffing. A moment later, Darby poked his head around the side of the crates, waving at Mick. _There you are._

_You were looking for me?_ Mick signed, smiling. He liked the werewolf, and honestly felt worse for him than he did for himself or Wes or Travis. He wasn’t a little boy, but he was definitely younger than they were and he’d suffered the same thing as them—maybe for longer. Darby wasn’t sure how long the demons had had him, or at least he claimed not to be. 

Darby nodded, coming and sitting in front of Mick, his huge shirt—one of Owen’s—pooled around his legs as he did. Absently, he reached behind and lifted up the back to free his tail, which wagged lazily. Mick had never really been sure if he was supposed to believe in stories of werewolves up north when he’d heard them before, but Darby pretty much proved them all true. _I wanted to thank you. For helping me._

_You’re welcome,_ Mick signed. _I’m glad you’re okay._ It was better to put it that way rather than asking it as a question. The immediacy with which Darby had latched onto Owen said something about how Darby was feeling, Mick thought, but he wasn’t sure what. It might just have been that attaching himself to someone who seemed strong made him feel safe, or it might have been something else. 

Another nod, and Darby inched a little closer. _I want to do something for you._

_You don’t have to,_ Mick signed. He didn’t want Darby feeling like he owed them something—you didn’t save someone from demons and then expect them to pay you back. _I’m just glad you’re safe._

_No,_ Darby insisted. _Let me pay you back, please?_

Mick watched him, the determined set of his shoulders. Saying no would just upset him. _Fine,_ he sighed. _If you really want to. What were you planning?_ It wasn’t like Darby had anything to give Mick except that boot knife he’d gotten from Owen, which he wasn’t likely to part with. Even the shirt he was wearing wasn’t his. 

Darby’s face split into a grin and he practically leapt forward, reaching for Mick, and it took Mick a second too long to realize Darby was aiming for his belt. “Wait, Darby…” But of course Darby didn’t hear him and he was looking down so he wouldn’t see any signs Mick made. He made quick work of Mick’s belt and pulled his pants open, reaching in without fear and grabbing Mick by the dick, pulling it out into the air. Mick put his hand on Darby’s face, tilting it up. _What are you doing?_

Darby just grinned wider and looked back down, opening his mouth and trying to swallow Mick’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Mick muttered, shuddering a little at the feeling. Darby sucked on him enthusiastically and not completely inexpertly. He wasn’t good at it, but Mick had a feeling he’d at least done it before. Mick just hoped it had been with some friend back home and not with a demon in the fortress. 

He tried to push Darby off, but Darby was resolute and stayed in place, strong for his size. Maybe it was a werewolf thing. Mick was hard in his mouth now and he’d been forced to pull back a little so he didn’t choke, but was still going on Mick’s dick like nobody’s business.

Mick sighed. He obviously really wanted to do this, and well, it wasn’t like Mick didn’t like it. So he stopped trying to push Darby off and let him do it, closing his eyes. 

Darby settled into a nice rhythm, moving his head up and down, lips sealed around Mick, rubbing all the bumps on Mick’s dick as he went, which sent shocks through him. Darby’s teeth touched him on occasion, but he always pulled them back, his mouth as wide open as it could be. He mostly sucked, forgoing the use of his tongue or not thinking to do it, and he held Mick in his right hand, squeezing the parts of his dick that he couldn’t fit into his mouth.

When Mick started to get close to cumming, he tried to tap Darby’s head to let him know—as far as he knew that sign was universal in this situation—but Darby either didn’t know it or didn’t care, and he kept sucking until Mick, trying to be quiet, started to shoot in his mouth. 

Maybe he hadn’t known, because Darby seemed surprised, lifting his head a little, keeping only the tip of Mick’s cock in his mouth. But he swallowed, dogged determination in his eyes even as cum ran down his chin. 

He kept sucking a few seconds after Mick was finished as if trying to get it all, but then he pulled off, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, still grinning like he’d had some huge success. 

Darby looked so pleased with himself that Mick couldn’t help but laugh, wiping some stray cum from Darby’s face. _Thank you_ , he signed. 

_Did you like it? Was it good?_

_Yes,_ Mick promised. _Really good.,_

Darby jumped on Mick, hugging him. His tail was wagged up a storm. Then he pulled back, standing, a tent in Owen’s shirt. _Thank you._

Mick shook his head. _I’d have saved you anyway. I’m glad you’re safe. Do you want help with that?_ he asked, pointing at the tent. 

_Nope! I’ll do it! Now we’re even!_ Darby declared, and with that, he ran off, tail still wagging.

Mick snorted once he was alone again, and put himself back inside his clothes. Part of him wanted to think that werewolves were weird, but another part of him was pretty sure that was all Darby. 

At least Mick knew he was okay.


	169. Edwin/Robby, A Nice Night (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very last request I got on the old Tumblr was for a look at the night Edwin keeps mentioning that he shared with Robby back in Techen's Stand, so [here](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/26/ive-been-wondering-for-a-while-about-edwin-and-robby-edwin-keeps-mentioning-it-so-could-i-request-a-look-at-their-night-together/) it is, I hope you enjoy!

Robby wasn’t there when Edwin got to the back end of his house that night, but Edwin sat down and waited. Even if he didn’t show, sleeping here was preferable to sleeping in that crowded room. Even with him leaving, Erik had managed to fuck Edwin in front of everyone before he’d gone, so he didn’t even have to worry about missing that. 

Knowing that Edwin was going off to get laid, he hadn’t let Edwin cum. Edwin hadn’t seen fit to tell him he wasn’t seeing Millicent again. Let him think what he wanted. 

Edwin lay back and watched the stars. There was a nice view of them from here in the mountains, and he felt oddly comfortable. His hometown was fairly rocky and near a lot of cliffs, so that was probably why. 

He was looking for a constellation he’d used to like as a kid when he heard a shuffle of feet and looked up, saw Robby standing there in the starlight. “Wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said. 

“Wasn’t sure you’d be here,” Robby said back, quietly. 

“Knights don’t break promises,” Edwin said, smiling and waving Robby over. “I was looking at the stars.”

Robby came and sat beside him, not too close. He was radiating nerves. “They’re pretty.” 

Edwin nodded, moving a little closer. “Yeah. You don’t get to see them this much in the city. Too many lights.” 

“W-what’s the capital like?” Robby asked him, looking up.

“Busy,” Edwin said. “Big. Loud. Doesn’t smell very good.” 

“Oh…”

Edwin heard the disappointment in his voice. “It’s cool, though. There’s lots to do.” 

Robby smiled at that. He was easy to cheer up. “Must be fun living there,” he said, a little wistful. 

“Yeah, it is. Especially if you make friends there. It’s lonely to be by yourself away from home.” Edwin had been terribly lonely the first few weeks of training before he’d made friends with Leo, then the others. And he was worried that Robby might do something dumb like run off to the city. He was too young for that. 

Nevermind that he was basically the same age that Edwin had been. 

Robby nodded. “I guess so.” He kept looking down at Edwin, then back up at he sky, clearly hoping Edwin hadn’t noticed. “How did you become a knight?”

“I went to the training school for knights,” Edwin told him with a smile. “They teach you everything you need to know.” 

“Everything?”

“Everything. I couldn’t even hold a sword when I got there. Now my sword’s magic.” 

“Wow…” 

“Want to see?” Edwin asked, pulling the lion sword out of its sheath. He’d worn his armour again since he’d figured Robby would want him to. The sword glowed as he pulled it out. 

“Oh, wow! It really is magic!”

“Yep. An angel gave it to me.” Edwin slipped it back into its sheath. 

“You’re so cool, Edwin.” He sounded…kind of despondent. 

Edwin smiled. “Want to know a secret about knights?”

“What?” Robby leaned in to hear. 

“We’re not any more special than anyone else,” Edwin told him. “Anyone can be a knight. You just have to work hard enough.” 

“R-really?”

“Really. It’s just about knowing what you want and working to get it. And lots of practice. That’s all.” 

“Oh…” Robby took a breath, and Edwin saw determination in his features. Hopefully Robby’s parents wouldn’t be angry about this.

Then, with that determination still set into his face, Robbie turned to Edwin again. “Can you take off your clothes?”

Edwin grinned. “Sure. You want a closer look than this morning?” When Robby nodded, Edwin stood up. “Help me unstrap my armour?”

Robby did, under Edwin’s direction getting it all off without too much trouble. Then Edwin undressed, pausing only when he was in his smallclothes. “You could take your clothes off too, if you want,” he offered to Robby, who blushed and slowly took off his shirt.

Edwin dropped his smallclothes, letting Robby watch, and then watched Robby undress much more shyly. “You can look as much as you want,” Edwin told him, holding out his arms a little. “I bet your parents always say something about looking with your eyes and not your hands, right?”

Robby nodded, suddenly looking a little put out. 

Edwin’s smile widened. “Well, don’t worry about that tonight. Look with your hands as much as you want.” 

“Really?” Robby brightened, and reached forward, then stopped. 

“Really.” What did Edwin care? He was allowed to be curious. 

And Robby obviously was curious, his dick hardening as he reached out to touch Edwin’s chest. He wasn’t as small as Edwin had expected. Maybe he was older than Edwin had guessed. Or maybe he was big for his age. 

Robby ran his hand over Edwin’s chest, his arms. “You’ve got so many muscles.”

“That’s what happens when you practice with a sword every day,” Edwin told him. 

Robby nodded, only half-listening to him as he touched. Inevitably, his hand wandered down, down Edwin’s stomach and to his dick, which he tentatively wrapped his fingers around. “You’re not as big as I thought…”

“Thanks,” Edwin laughed, rolling his eyes. 

Robby went red. “That’s not what I meant! I mean, uh…”

Edwin patted Robby’s head, getting hard in his hand. “I’m not that much older than you, you know.” 

“I guess not,” Robby said with a chuckle, watching as Edwin got hard. “Can I…”

“Sure,” Edwin said. “Here, let’s sit down.” He sat, pulling Robby down and into his lap. Robby never let him go. “There, that’s a little more comfortable, I think,” he said, and Robby nodded, before starting to stroke Edwin. 

Edwin reciprocated, taking Robby in his hand and working on him as well. Robby made a noise, laying his head against Edwin’s chest, eyes on his work, at least until he shut them. Robby had a pretty straightforward approach, but that worked for him, and it definitely worked for Edwin. The night was chilly, but their bodies warmed each other. 

Edwin held on as long as he could, trying to outlast Robby, but with Erik’s attention earlier he couldn’t, and he soon went tense and shot, Robby watching in fascination as Edwin painted his chest and belly. “Ah…wow…”

He might have said more than that, but Robby came a second later, Edwin helping him make his own mess with a long sigh. “Wow…” he said again. 

Edwin chuckled, gently letting Robby go. Robby didn’t let go. “Good, right?”

Robby nodded, eyes shut again, still resting against Edwin’s chest. “You liked it, right?” He sounded half asleep. 

“Yeah,” Edwin promised, with a kiss to Robby’s temple. He manoeuvred them into a laying position, Robby on his chest, one arm around the boy. 

“I’m going to go the capital someday,” Robby told him.

Edwin smiled. “I’ll see you there,” he promised.

Robby didn’t answer. He was asleep. 

Smiling to himself, Edwin held Robby there, looking up at the stars until he eventually fell asleep as well. It had been a good night.


	170. Todd/Scott, Touching Allowed (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of three Todd requests by Spirit_Man, who here [asked](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/27/todd-scott-touching-allowed/) for Todd getting raped by Scott with all the glorious centipede-filled sensory descriptions that come with that. Hope you enjoy!

“That’s it,” Todd said, tired. “That’s the whole castle.” 

“The _whole_ castle?” Scott asked, leaning close, coming just close to touching Todd. He wasn’t allowed to do that, he’d said. No touching was the rule the king had made for him. “You didn’t leave any secret passages or nooks or crannies or murderholes or chamberpots out? I’ll be sad if you did.” 

“No, I showed you all the chamberpots,” Todd said, exasperated. He’d been showing this stupid demon around the castle for _hours_ because the king had said he had to. And also because Scott—what kind of demon was named _Scott_ —wouldn’t fucking leave him alone. 

Scott leaned in close, and Todd wrinkled his nose, again grateful for the no touching rule. Scott was gross. He looked human, mostly, like a guy a few years older than Todd, uneven brown hair and blue eyes just a little too big, pointed features. He was butt naked and unconcerned about that, and smeared head to toe with dirt and dust and other crap that Todd had decided not to wonder about, some of which flaked off of him every time he moved like dead skin. One of his arms was longer than the other, his bellybutton was a sideways gash across his stomach and he didn’t have any toes or fingernails. He also smelled worse than the chamberpots that he’d been so interested in, which had brought tears to Todd’s eyes at first for it being so bad, but he’d steadily gotten used to it over the last few hours. Mostly. “You’d better have, or I’ll tell on you to Sammy,” Scott said, a centipede detaching from his face and wandering down his body, burrowing into his armpit as the facilime of skin on his face closed over with a squelch, leaving his mouth lopsided.

Todd shuddered, looking away. He’d tried repeatedly to forget that Scott was literally made of giant centipedes glommed onto one another, which was hard when his introduction had been Scott charging at him under a door in a thousand piece, surrounding him before forming up and demanding a tour. 

Todd was going to short-sheet the king’s bed for this. And maybe spit in his food if he could do it without getting caught. 

“I did,” he promised. “I didn’t leave anything out.” 

“Good,” Scott said, getting out of his space and strolling off to look out a window. He sighed. “I don’t have that much time left before I have to go back in the pit. Pity. I was having fun. Maybe we can hang out again next time I’m allowed to go for a walk?”

Todd didn’t answer. 

That was the wrong answer, because it made Scott come back over. “What? Aren’t you having fun?” His voice sounded like a cat getting torn apart by bulldogs. “I hope I haven’t been boring you, Butt-Boy, I’d like to think we’ve become friends.” 

Todd glared at him, embarrassed. “D-don’t call me that.” 

“Why? Friends call each other by nicknames, don’t they? Besides, that’s what you are. For Sammy, and Sparkles, and well. Half the castle, right? The dick-having half, that is. You’re popular.” 

Todd felt his face heat further. Scott made him sound like a skank. “Not by choice,” he muttered darkly. It was hardly his fault that so many people—it wasn’t nearly half the castle, God—made sport of him. Henry’s protection wasn’t quite as total as it had been, by accident or (more likely) design. 

“Oh,” Scott said, sounding as sympathetic as a bucket of screws could sound. He hovered his hand over Sam’s, as if to touch him. A centipede stuck its head out of his wrist and clicked its mandibles. “It’s the rape game, is it? That’s fun. Well, not for you so much. But for everyone else, anyway.” 

Todd glared, then turned away when it didn’t have any effect. He’d been told that his glares just looked like a fish with a mouthful of grass. “Fuck off.” 

Scott snorted. “Oh no, I hurt your feeling. Well, since we’re friends, how about you tell me the name of someone you really don’t like and I’ll eat him?”

Todd blinked. “R-really? Wait, you’re not allowed to touch.” 

Scott shrugged like someone who’d only heard of the concept, making it clear that he didn’t really have the same bones in his shoulders that Todd did. “What Sammy doesn’t know won’t hurt you.” 

Todd eyed him warily. “Why would you want to help me?”

“Because I like you? Do you know how hard it is to find a human who’ll hang out with me?” Scott rolled his eyes. “Hell, do you know how hard it is to find any sentient being who’ll hang out with me? Something about being ‘repugnant’ and ‘an abomination’ and ‘a crime against the fundamental ethic of creation.’” 

Fair enough. Still, Todd could walk around and listen to Scott some more if it meant that a few people he didn’t like got killed. “The king, Henry.” 

Scott sucked in a breath, made a face. His nose wasn’t in the same place it had started when he finished the face. “Sorry, those are the two people I’m not allowed to touch. Specific orders from Sammy.”

Damn. Worth a try. “Um…” Todd thought about it. “There’s this castle guard named Len. He’s always really rough with me. Eat him.” 

Scott grinned. “Sure thing. I’ll make sure to…oh, wait.”

“What?” Todd felt his stomach fall. 

“I just remembered. I’m actually not allowed to touch _anyone_ , Sammy’s orders.” Scott sighed. “I guess I won’t eat him. I’ll make sure to go find him and tell him you wanted me to, though, that should get the same sentiment across, right?”

Todd shook his head so hard it nearly fell off. “W-wait, no, don’t do that! He’ll hurt me!”

“Hm…You know, I’m just remembering something else,” Scott said, finger hovering, too long, over Todd’s cheek. “I’m forbidden from touching anyone...” He trailed off, just standing there, too close to Todd, who was too afraid to move suddenly. 

Scott looked Todd in the eye, poked his cheek. “Except you.” 

“No…” Todd took a step back. Scott followed him. 

“Actually what he said was, ‘if you meet a kid named Todd, feel free to touch him as much as you want,’” Scott said, following as Todd tried to retreat further. “Now, given your status as the castle butt-boy, what do you think he meant by that?”

Todd turned and ran.

And was grabbed, slammed into the wall by something that felt like part hand, part hundreds of tiny pokers. “I don’t really get the human obsession with sex,” Scott said, too close to Todd’s ear considering it was just his hand on Todd’s neck. Behind his voice Todd could hear chittering. “But you know, it’s been so long since I was able to _touch_ somebody, Butt-Boy…”

“Don’t…” Todd whimpered, shaking his head. “Please don’t.”

“Mmmm,” Scott said, like a nail on a window. “I’m gonna.” He had Todd bodily up against the wall now, those pokers all up his back and down his legs, through his clothes. “Unless…”

“I’ll do it,” Todd said immediately. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it.” 

“Okay. You march on down to Sammy’s room and tell him what you told me,” Scott said. “And I’ll stop touching.” 

Todd froze. If he did that, if he did that. His head filled with the things the king had said after he’d tried to poison him, with what had happened after that. Henry wasn’t protecting him anymore. If he told them that, they’d probably make Scott rape him anyway, and then they’d come up with something worse. They always had something worse. 

Todd whimpered, shook his head. He shut his eyes. 

Scott tutted. “Liar. But that’s okay, I like liars.” Those pokers burrowed suddenly, just for a second, tearing Todd’s clothes, touching his skin, just short of breaking it. A hand covered Todd’s mouth, what was clearly a centipede playing at his lips as if trying to get in, and Todd held his mouth closed. Forced to breath through his nose, inhaling Scott’s stench. 

“Now, how does this work,” Scott muttered, pulling back from Todd a little. “I think I get this little guy hard, right?” He slapped his dick against Todd’s back, and on the third smack it was hard. “And put it in somewhere? I could make a hole, but I guess you’ve got one here. Okay…”

He rammed inside Todd, his dick feeling like it was sharp around the edges that it didn’t have, and Todd yelped, opening his mouth without wanting to. The centipede on Scott’s hand slipped inside and started exploring. 

Todd resisted the urge to bite down, because then he’d have a dead centipede in his mouth—or maybe it wouldn’t die, and that would be way, way worse. 

Scott started to move back and forth, his dick reaching farther into Todd than it should, almost wiggling and no, no, Todd was going to pretend he didn’t feel that, didn’t feel the pincers on the end of Scott’s dick, didn’t feel it at all. It was just a cock, no different from Sam or Henry. 

He focused on the gentle clawing inside his mouth, the centipede exploring his cheeks, on the one crawling up around his nose, clicking at his eye and chasing the tears that ran down his face, the little legs on his back, marching endlessly, endlessly. The smell of rot and shit and something else surrounded him, in his skin, and Todd was sure he’d never be free of it. 

The stone wall was pressed against his front, and that was okay, that was normal, that was something Todd could handle. He wanted to throw up, could fell the bile wanting to rise but it didn’t, it just stopped when it got to the centipede on his neck. 

Scott clicked all over as he fucked Todd, all up and down Todd’s back and everywhere, and his breath hit Todd’s neck like swamp gas. “Gotta admit,” Scott breathed as he went, “this is pretty fun, actually.” And so he kept going. A centipede crawled around and wrapped around Todd’s dick. Not doing anything, just sitting there, poking him. 

How long it went on Todd didn’t know. The centipede in his mouth started to wander down his throat. Scott’s dick had gotten longer and wider. And then suddenly all the legs all over him poked him at once like a million needle and Scott shot inside him, a searing liquid up his ass that didn’t have the feeling of cum.

“Man,” Scott said, removing his hand—and the centipede—from Todd’s mouth, stepping back. He pulled out, and all the centipedes retreated from Todd’s body. “Man, that was cool, actually. I should do that again.”

Todd slid down the wall, falling down, refusing to open his eyes. He’d never complain about getting fucked again. Never. He could still feel it, his skin crawling all over with the leftover feeling of Scott. 

Scott’s voice sounded from near his ear again. “My day’s almost up, so I have to toddle back to the pit now. Otherwise I’d stay and we could cuddle or something. I’ll see you next time, Butt-Boy.”

And Scott walked off. The cum in Todd’s ass solidified, and crawled out of him, one more centipede, rejoining its master.

Todd coughed, threw up on the floor, and he just lay there, whimpering. It was over an hour before was willing to chance opening his eyes again.


	171. Todd/Derek, Turnaround (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second of Spirit_Man's Todd [requests](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/27/todd-derek-turnaround), this time with Derek turning the tables on Todd during a shared bath. Enjoy!

Todd was not enjoying himself.

“That’s good, keep going…”

He and Derek had been in the bath, and he’d gotten hard, so he’d done what he always did when he got hard—he’d flipped Derek over and started to fuck him. 

“Can you go harder, Todd? Come on, please?”

And now Derek was…enjoying it. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy it. Only one of them was supposed to enjoy it. Everyone knew that having a cock up your ass wasn’t fun. 

“Yeah…like that…”

But there was Derek, liking it like a dumbass, and there was no way Todd was ever going to cum if he kept that up, so he just…stopped. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m done,” Todd grumbled as he pulled out. 

“You didn’t shoot!” Derek accused, turning over. He was hard as a rock. 

Todd shrugged, getting up to leave the bathroom. “I wasn’t enjoying it. You’re too annoying.”

“But…”

“Going to go jerk off or something,” Todd said, waving over his shoulder. 

He heard the slosh of water as Derek stood up, but he didn’t expect the hand on his wrist, or the sudden vertigo of falling as Derek pushed him to the ground. Todd landed on his stomach, the breath leaving him and Derek on top of him, his arm pinned behind his back. “What the fuck?”

“ _I_ was enjoying it,” Derek hissed, his boner pressed against Todd’s ass. “Did it occur to you that you weren’t the only one there?”

“I…I don’t care!” Todd struggled, but couldn’t get free. Derek wasn’t any bigger than him, but he had no leverage from his position on the floor to move Derek off. “Handle your own dick, it’s not my problem.”

“I will,” Derek said, breathing hard. “You know what? I will.” 

“Good,” Todd growled, as Derek started to lift himself off.

And then started to move back down, angling his dick right at… “Wait a fucking minute…”

“Shut up,” Derek said, and he started to push inside with a grunt. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you weren’t such a selfish…ugh, prick all the time…”

Todd whimpered, not because it hurt, just because it was embarrassing. This was backwards. He did this to Derek, not the other way around. Derek wasn’t playing fair. 

Derek started moving fast, having no goddammed idea what he was doing, fucking Todd at a speed that he randomly decided was good. “I like orgasms too, you know. Maybe if you’d ever, man, realized that, we’d both be fucking happier, huh?”

“Sh-shut up…” Todd grated, anger roiling through him. “I fu-fucking hate you…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Derek said, giving Todd’s arm a pull to make him yell. This was exactly what the king had done to him the first time, and Henry too. And what he’d done to Derek. 

Todd’s boner was rubbing against the stone floor. Why was he still hard? He didn’t want this, he didn’t like this. 

“Ah…” Todd said, involuntary, as Derek did something that felt really nice, hit that stupid spot that he knew existed but could never find that made this feel stupid good. Derek tripped up, missing a thrust, but when he got his rhythm back, he hit it again, and again, stimulating that part over and over again. 

“This is really…ah…good,” Derek muttered as he went, breathing getting heavier. “No wonder you like this, it’s…fuck, topping is awesome…”

Todd would have rolled his eyes—obviously topping was awesome, that was why everyone liked it—but he couldn’t because he gasped as a wave of pleasure wrapped him up, in a way he’d never felt with someone inside him. What the fuck?

A thought came to him and he couldn’t dismiss it no matter how hard he tried. _Derek is good at this._

Why the _fuck_ was Derek good at this?

However it had happened, it was true, and Todd was going to cum and he was never going to live it down, he already knew. He was already angry but he couldn’t be angry when it felt so _good_ and then he was cumming, curling a little, crying out something that might have been Derek’s name as he shot, spurt after spurt, more than he thought he’d ever cum inside Derek, splattering the floor and his belly and clenching. And it took him a second to realize that Derek had stopped moving but that he was full of heat and wet because Derek was shooting too. Derek’s voice joined his in crying out, mixing together in the echo of the bathroom as they came together. 

When they were done, Derek just sat there for a second, panting. “Wow…” he whispered. “Going to do that again for sure.” 

Todd snorted, made himself snort. He was so humiliated. Why had he liked that? “You can fucking try.” 

Derek patted Todd’s head as he pulled out. Todd had to bite his tongue not to make a noise. “I will. Since I’m not a selfish prick like you and you actually came too, I’ll just be in charge of both our orgasms from now on, okay?”

That was…not at all okay, but Derek had already crawled back into the bath and was looking for the rag to clean himself with. 

Todd, shaking, got to his feet and went to leave. “Todd.”

“What?” Todd demanded, turning. 

“Get back in the water and clean off, you’re all messy.” Derek was looking at him, eyes hard.

Todd almost told him to jump off a tower, almost went over there and kicked Derek in the stupid face, gouged his eyes out. He could do it. It wouldn’t be hard. 

But Todd just slumped his shoulders and went to sit in the bath beside Derek, taking the rag he offered and starting to wipe himself clean. Derek started to hum a stupid tune as they washed.

Todd hated this so much. It wasn’t fucking fair.


	172. Todd/Derek, Betrayal (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last Todd [request](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/27/todd-derek-betrayal/) from Spirit_Man, this time featuring Todd thinking about how much he totally doesn't like bottoming for Derek.

Todd always slept naked. He got too hot otherwise and besides, he wasn’t some dumb baby who needed to wear his shirt and loincloth to bed. The fact that he took off his clothes when Derek started puttering like he wanted to go to bed didn’t mean anything—Derek would get annoying if Todd didn’t let him blow out the lantern, so he may as well just get ready for bed too, even if he wasn’t fucking tired. 

He got out the bottle of oil and put it on the little table beside the bed just because that way they wouldn’t have to make a production out of looking for it in the dark when one of them was trying to sleep. If Derek decided to jerk off or something later, Todd didn’t want to have to wake up because Derek was too clumsy to find anything. 

When Derek took the bottle and got on the bed, naked as well, Todd just spread his legs apart. They were cramped from laying the way he was and he wanted to stretch them. He completely ignored Derek as Derek poured some oil on his dick and got into position, making a vaguely annoyed noise as Derek entered him. 

Todd hated Derek fucking him. But Derek would just keep insisting until they did it, and it was no fun to flip Derek over and fuck him the way it was supposed to go. So whatever, Todd just let him do it, let him push inside, hands on Todd’s hips, a satisfied groan escaping Derek as he bottomed out. 

Todd hated getting fucked generally, no matter who did it. Sometimes it was some random castle guard, dragging him into an empty room or just pushing him up against a wall, yanking his pants down and just ramming it in like an animal, heaving away for a few minutes before shooting inside Todd and then walking off like nothing had happened. Fucking barbarians. Henry probably paid them to do it. They were all big and rough and rude and they left Todd sore and angry, but otherwise fine. 

“Aw, man…” Derek said, sliding his hands up to Todd’s chest as he went. He poked one of Todd’s nipples, Todd gasping more in surprise than anything. 

Sometimes it was Sam. Todd really hated when Sam fucked him. He was nasty, and he did it more to humiliate Todd than anything else. He made Todd undress him, made Todd say stuff or do stuff. The worst was that Todd knew Sam only fucked him because he was bored or because he wanted to annoy Henry. Sam didn’t give a shit about him, which made taking his cock all the more annoying. Him being inside Todd was just an insult, one long protracted insult.

Derek’s eyes were mostly closed as he picked up speed, breath falling grossly on Todd’s face. Todd was hard, which was the worst because it would make Derek think he cared. Then Derek hit that stupid spot inside him and Todd had to bite his lip to keep from making a stupid noise—the kind of noise Derek would make. 

The worst, though, the cock that Todd hated having inside him the most was Henry’s. Henry was big, he fucked Todd every day, and he always made sure it hurt. Then he pretended it was only because Sam was making him do it, but Todd knew that wasn’t true because he could just pretend he’d done it, Todd would go along. But no, every day. And it always hurt. Henry’s cock was the worst, because it came with the rest of Henry. 

“Nnnnn,” Derek whinged, pressing Todd down into the bed as he fucked him. “You’re so good, Todd…”

Derek’s cock was hardly anything in comparison. It didn’t hurt; in fact, Todd barely felt it. It was small and basically useless—Todd was surprised he could even stay hard. The only real reason he didn’t like it aside from the regular humiliation of bottoming for _Derek_ of all people was that…

“Ah,” Todd said, loosing his grip on his tongue as Derek kept pounding him in the right spot. Derek seemingly didn’t even hear him, but that didn’t matter, because Todd knew he’d done it. Fuck. He was leaking precum onto his belly. Fuck. 

By the time he’d noticed all that—Todd had barely been paying attention to what Derek had been doing—he was about to cum and it was too late, his body tensing as he started to squirt all over himself. 

When he finished, Todd felt himself relax all over, panting to try and get his breath back. But he wasn’t given any time as Derek suddenly gripped him, drove in hard and came with a yelp like he was surprised, filling Todd’s ass before collapsing on top of him, head on Todd’s chest, not pulling out. He would in a minute, then he’d get his loincloth and shirt back on and go to sleep like he always did. “That was good.” 

“Wh-whatever.” The thing Todd hated the most about having Derek inside him was that his body always betrayed him at the last minute. He always came when Derek fucked him. It was annoying. It made Todd look stupid and gave Derek ideas. “Get off of me.” 

“Mm-hm,” Derek said, eyes shut, and he didn’t move. “Thanks…”

What the fuck was he…

Derek was sleeping. He’d fallen asleep like that. What an idiot. 

Todd could have pushed him off, but what would be the point? He put his arms around Derek and held him in place, to stop him smearing the cum between them around even more than he already had. And he closed his eyes, clenching a little around Derek’s dick, still inside him. It fit in there with no discomfort, like it was made to go there. 

Stupid. It was so stupid. Todd would have to beat Derek up tomorrow or something, just for being such a dumbass. How was he supposed to fall asleep like this?

But he did, and unusually for him, that night he slept soundly.


	173. Drew/Darby, Unspoken (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have one of two Darby [requests](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/27/drew-darby-unspoken/) by Spirit_Man, who asked for Darby and Drew with Drew enjoying submissive Darby. Hope you enjoy!

Drew was cleaning something—as usual—when a tap on his shoulder startled him. He hadn’t heard anyone coming. He wanted to snap but because it might be the prince, who was quiet enough to sneak up on him, or possibly Frederick (Drew could dream), he just looked over his shoulder, trying to pretend he hadn’t jumped. “Do you need something…oh.” 

It was Darby, the weird werewolf who’d attached himself to the prince—or more specifically to Owen. “Hi,” Drew said, then he remembered that Darby couldn’t hear and he felt bad and waved instead. 

Darby waved at him, then said something difficult in sign language. Drew had learned the words for food, drink and sleep, and this was none of those. “I don’t…” he sighed, made an exaggerated shrug with both hands. “I don’t know what that means, Darby, I’m sorry.” 

Darby sighed with his whole body, then signed again, but slower this time, pointing at Drew. 

Drew shook his head, hoping that Darby understood he was just confused and not trying to be rude. He’d heard Gavin call Darby Owen’s son more than once, which he was sure was a joke, but at the same time, Darby lived in their apartments and ate at their table and sometimes slept in their bed during the day, so maybe it wasn’t. 

Darby just gave Drew a flat looked and shook his head. Then, slowly and elaborately, he pointed at Drew, then at himself. “You want to do something with me?”

Darby pointed at them both again, then at his bedroom—which he hardly used—and then he made a circle with two fingers, and poked a finger from another hand through it. 

Drew blushed, sure he must be misinterpreting that. Obviously it didn’t mean…

But Darby grinned seeing that, nodding, 

“Uh, I shouldn’t…I’m working, and…”

Darby took Drew’s wrist and tugged him towards the bedroom, gently. He was pretty strong, so Drew knew he was being gentle.

And, well, Drew was pretty much done and the prince and Owen wouldn’t be back for hours anyway, it wasn’t like he couldn’t take a little break. And this was a better use of his break than what he’d been going to do, which was wander around the castle aimlessly like a loser. 

So Drew went with him. Darby’s bedroom was way too much of a mess considering he never used it—there was junk scattered around on the floor and other surfaces and the blankets were all piled up on the bed. Cleaning in here was always the last thing Drew did because Darby growled at him when he did. From behind, Drew could see that Darby’s tail was wagging, which was really cute. 

Darby wasted no time, taking off the long shirt he was wearing and well. That was all he was wearing, so that was the end of that process. Then he leapt forward and kissed Drew. 

Surprised, Drew caught him and kissed back, chuckling a little at Darby’s enthusiasm. He was a sloppy kisser, getting his mouth sort of all over the lower half of Drew’s face, but Drew couldn’t help but indulge him for a few minutes, just holding him and trying to kiss back. Drew was getting better at sensing emotions from people, and now that he was touching Darby he was getting boundless enthusiasm, mixed with lust. And patience. He was waiting for Drew, even as they kissed.

Since he was waiting, Drew pushed him back, smiling. He started to say something, but Darby seemed to understand, grinning widely and reaching over to tug at Drew’s clothes. He lifted Drew’s shirt over his head and off, tossing it aside, then unlaced Drew’s pants without hesitation, pushing them down with his smallclothes until Drew stepped out of them and his socks, standing naked in front of Darby. 

Darby signed something, then just bent over and took Drew into his mouth, sucking him just for a second or two. Drew had barely finished his gasp before Darby was standing up again. He leapt—literally leapt from where he was standing—onto the bed, rolling into a tangle with the blankets and fighting to get them off him. Drew was laughing by the time he tossed them aside. He was just like a dog. 

Instead of jumping, Drew walked over to the bed, climbing on normally, a little surprised when Darby lay on his back, legs apart, looking up at Drew. He licked a finger and pressed it inside himself, whinging a little as he did. Drew had just sort of assumed that Darby wanted to top him, but apparently not.

Well, Drew was happy enough to oblige the wolfboy. He climbed in between Darby’s legs, smiling down at him, and he leaned down for a brief kiss before taking his dick and guiding it to Darby’s hole where it was so obviously wanted. Drew pushed, letting out a long breath, and Darby whinged but moved his hips up and down to get more of Drew inside, want coming off of him in waves. 

Since Darby wanted, Drew gave, pushing until he was deep inside, as deep as he could get. “Ah,” Drew said, thrilled. This was a good feeling. He liked this. 

Darby was looking up at him, eyes pleading. He kept bucking his hips, trying to make Drew move. So Drew moved, pressing his body against Darby’s as he did, kissing him again. Darby’s dick rubbed against Drew’s stomach, and that made him clench harder around Drew, which made Drew thrust harder, which made Darby buck his hips, which made his dick rub against Drew’s belly, which made…

It was a good cycle, and Drew was happy to be caught in it. 

Darby was so responsive; every time Drew tried to adjust or anything, Darby moved to accommodate him, never stopping. He kissed when Drew wanted to kiss, held back when Drew didn’t, moved his hips endlessly but let Drew set what speed he wanted, he liked this, he was enjoying this, he wanted Drew to like it too, he wanted Drew to be happy, he wanted that, he’d do anything, he’d do anything…

He’d do anything Drew asked him to. Drew felt his heart skip when he realized that—Darby’s feelings and his had elided for a moment there, and now Drew understood. Darby wanted Drew to command him. He wanted to submit to Drew. 

Drew almost came when he realized that, but he managed not to and instead smiled. He stopped moving for a second, hearing Darby’s whinge and not heeding it. He looked down at Darby, feeling a little more dominant than a moment ago. Then he raised himself a little, smirking down at Darby, who just looked at him wide-eyed as if waiting for something. Instruction. 

He was a flushed mess, Darby was, all down his face and half his chest. His dick was red and leaking on his belly, twitching. He must be as close as Drew was. As many ideas as Drew had about what to do with his new submissive wolf, he couldn’t really make good on any of them. So all he did for now was take Darby’s hands and hold them both above his head, pinning them by the wrists in one hand. Darby let him do it, eyes fluttering closed as Drew pressed himself against Darby again, first kissing but then biting Darby’s lower lip. 

Drew came a few seconds later, his own pleasure erupting as Darby’s mounted, and he pumped his cum into Darby as Darby made an indistinct noise, rutting against Drew’s belly, and came as well, four squirts between their bellies, staining both of them. 

They collapsed together, Drew falling out of Darby, but holding him in place. He rolled onto his back and pulled Darby possessively up against his chest, which clearly worked just fine for Darby, who lay his head on Drew’s chest. “Hope that’s what you wanted,” Drew said, though of course Darby couldn’t hear him. 

He hoped they did this again sometime. 

Darby lay there contentedly, tail wagging. After a few minutes, he looked up at Drew, made a quick sign. 

Drew didn’t need to know sign to know what he’d said. “You’re welcome, Darby.”


	174. Darby, Will Work for Praise (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second Darby [request](https://antagonizedpenguin.wordpress.com/2019/01/27/darby-will-work-for-praise/) for Spirit_Man, who asked for Darby 'enjoying' being praised for doing household chores. Hope you like, and thanks!

Darby sneezed as he dusted the shelves, and then he sneezed again. But he kept at it, bearing through the sneezes, until the shelf was done. Then he did the next one, and the next one, until all the shelves were clean and he thought that if he sneezed one more time his eyeballs might fall out. 

He stood back, admiring the shelves, now free of dust, and grinned. That was good. That looked really good.

Darby couldn’t possibly care less whether or not the shelves were dusty. 

Now that they weren’t, though, Darby nodded to himself and sniffed the air, darting off to find Owen and Gavin. They were sitting together on one of their couches—the one Darby didn’t like to nap on—and barking at each other. Darby went in front of them and got Owen’s attention. “I dusted the shelves!” he said. 

Owen smiled at him, yapping to Gavin, who didn’t know how to talk. “Thanks, that’s thoughtful of you,” Owen said, slow and clumsy as usual, but slightly less so than when they’d met now. Darby had done a good job in helping him get better at talking. 

Darby nodded, and then he stood there, waiting. His tail was swaying back and forth a little in anticipation. Eventually, Owen got the hint, reaching out and patting Darby’s head, his big hand resting between Darby’s ears and ruffling his fur, even scratching him a little behind one ear. 

He did that for a few seconds, and when he was done, Darby’s tail was wagging like mad, a nice warm feeling in his belly like syrup on his heart. Owen chuckled at him, but Darby just leapt up from the slouch he’d fallen into. “I’m going to go do more chores!”

“You don’t have to,” Owen said. “We have servants and stuff.” 

“Don’t care!” And Darby turned around so that Owen couldn’t talk to him anymore, and looked around the room for something else to help out with. 

He put their boots away from when they were outside, then he picked up the dirty laundry in their bedroom and made the bed, then he came out and cleared away the cups they’d been drinking out of when they were done, then he went and fetched a book for Gavin when asked. In between each task, Darby returned for a head pat, which Owen always gave out. It was one of the reasons Darby liked him so much—he knew how to do the right thing. 

The real surprise, though, came when Darby delivered the book. Gavin took it with a smile—he was friendly, even if he didn’t know how to talk—and then pulled Darby into his lap without warning and started to rub his belly. 

Darby gasped, ears twitching as it happened. He loved belly rubs so much! Small chores didn’t really warrant them so he hardly got them, but he wasn’t going to tell Gavin that, and instead he just closed his eyes and let it happen, kicking his legs a little as he did. That syrupy feeling spread all over his body and Darby loved it, and he especially loved it when Owen started scratching behind his ears again.

It was all Darby could do to stay in Gavin’s lap, and he was in heaven for a good few minutes before they stopped rubbing him and Darby, totally content, didn’t even try to move and just went to sleep right there for a nap.

Owen and Gavin were gone when he woke up, and he was just on the uncomfortable couch by himself. Darby pouted a little, sniffing the room and finding it empty. 

But instead of getting up right away he just recalled the awesome pets he’d gotten, thinking about how much he’d liked that. He wanted that to happen again. He wanted it to happen again _right now._

He was hard thinking about it. Darby lifted his shirt and started to touch himself, jerking off to the memory of what had happened earlier. The feeling of hands on him, praising him, telling him without words that he’d done well, that they loved him and he was good, that was so amazing, so much, so powerful and Darby wanted it all the time, and…

He came hard, squirting more than he usually did, balls pulling tight as he emptied them to the memory of the attention he’d received. He wiped off with his shirt and then wiped his hand on the couch, laying back, looking up at the ceiling. And planning how to make all that happen again. 

Darby was going to clean _so many things_ tomorrow.


	175. Sully/Bartholomew, Belligerent (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for Folken, who asked for Sully being on the receiving end of Bartholomew's ability to conjure bands of metal out of nowhere. Hope you enjoy, and thanks!

“It’s fucking stupid is what it is,” Sully muttered, shaking his head as he wandered around the little house, touching all of Bartholomew’s stuff. “It’s a waste of time, it’s not going to be productive and it’s stupid.” 

“Still,” Bartholomew said, sighing. “It’s worth trying.” 

“No, it’s fucking not. We tried it once, trying it again isn’t going to do anything.” Sully left it at that, deciding that saying the rest would just start a fight that he didn’t want to have with Bartholomew, not when they were finally talking again. 

“So you’re just going to decide not to try?”

“Not to not try,” Sully corrected. “I just think we could try something else.” 

“Like what?” Bartholomew asked. 

“I don’t fucking know,” Sully grumbled. “If I knew I’d have said so. I’m just…”

“Being belligerent?” 

Sully narrowed his eyes at Bartholomew. “Speaking my mind.”

Bartholomew stood up. “Belligerently. You’ve always been belligerent.” 

Sully shrugged. “It’s called having a personality. Try it sometime.” 

Bartholomew laughed, stretching out his arm. “I’ve tried it many times.” 

“Only when you wanted someone to tie you up over it.” 

“Yeah,” Bartholomew admitted. “It usually works out.” 

“Don’t see the appeal,” Sully muttered.

“Really?” Bartholomew asked. He tilted his head, stepping a little closer to Sully. “You don’t see the appeal of being tied up? Haven’t you ever tried it?”

“No,” Sully lied.

“Liar. I know Jude tied you up when you dated him.” 

Sully blushed. At least he didn’t know about a few of the more recent examples if he had to go that far back. “Whatever. Wasn’t that into it.” 

“Hm,” Bartholomew said, moving closer. Sully moved out of his space, realizing his back was nearly to the wall. “I wonder. Maybe the reason you’re so belligerent all the time is because you need to be tied up again.” 

“Doubt that,” Sully said with a snort. “Doesn’t really suit me.” 

“Really?” Bartholomew asked again. He reached up and grabbed Sully’s wrist, pressed it against the wall. And then he smiled when Sully’s breath caught. “That doesn’t sound like it doesn’t suit you.” 

“L-let me go…” Sully said, though he could easily break free. He didn’t really want Bartholomew to let him go. A lot of feelings that he’d lost a long time ago seemed to hover under the surface, waiting to be resurrected. 

“Sure,” Bartholomew said, taking his hand away, something cold latching onto Sully’s wrist. 

“What…” Sully tugged, couldn’t get out of the golden band that was around his wrist, affixing him to the wall. “Barty!” 

“What?” Bartholomew asked, grabbing Sully’s arm as he tried to free himself and spreading it as far as it could go to the other side, making another metal band and sticking him to the wall with his arms completely outstretched. “You could break out if you wanted to.” 

“That’s not the fucking point!” Sully struggled, but didn’t really struggle, against the bonds. They tingled, angelic power. “Fucking let me go!”

“No,” Bartholomew said, kneeling and grabbing one of Sully’s feet, pushing it back against the wall. Another metal band appeared around the ankle. “Actually…” He waved a hand and Sully moved up the wall, suspended now. Then Bartholomew reached for the other ankle. “That’s better.” 

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Sully growled, swinging his free leg so Bartholomew couldn’t get it. 

But he did anyway, strapping that to the wall too. “With what legs?” 

“You son of a bitch.” Sully was enjoying this too much, he knew himself well enough to admit that. 

Bartholomew laughed, ran his hand down Sully’s front, made his clothes vanish. He gently touched Sully’s erection. “Keep insulting me, Sullivan, you know I like that.” 

“You…” Sully swallowed. “You weak little piece of shit, needing to strap me to your wall to feel powerful, you know you’re nothing if I’m free,” he said, gasping as Bartholomew put another band around his neck. Not too tight, but enough to keep him in place. 

“Let me go,” Sully asked. 

“No.”

“Barty, let me go or so help me…”

“Beg for it, Sullivan.” 

“Like I’m going to beg to you, you pathetic excuse for a boot-licking, dirt-scraping, half-assed, sycophantic perverted angelic cockring!”

Bartholomew blinked, red in the face. “That was good.”

“Th-thanks…” Sully muttered, looking away. “Uh…we going to…”

“It was a good idea, too,” Bartholomew said, reaching out and putting two fingers on the base of Sully’s cock. 

“What? Good idea for…”

Bartholomew smiled, and a metal band appeared there too, a thin one, but tight, tight enough to stop Sully from cumming. “Barty…” Sully whinged, shaking in the restraints. “Fuck you…”

“No,” Bartholomew said. “I don’t think so, not tonight.” 

“You get off on shit like this, you sick fuck. I can’t believe they let you into the angelic ranks, I can’t believe…what are you doing now?” 

Bartholomew was moving his hands, another piece of metal taking shape between them. “Don’t mind me.” 

“I’m minding you, you asshole! What are you doing?”

Bartholomew had summoned a longish metal cylinder, rounded at the head and slightly flared, and glistening as if wet, and he had it in his hand, looking at Sully innocently. “What do you think?”

“Fuck…fuck…” Sully said, the second curse turning into a gentle moan as Bartholomew slid the metal up inside him, easily and with no resistance. Fucking magic. Sully’s bound cock twitched. “Fuck, Bartholomew, fuck.” 

“Yeah,” Bartholomew said, pushing it all the way in and then stroking Sully’s cheek. “Still feeling belligerent?”

“You bet your ass I’m still feeling belligerent,” Sully snapped, squirming as best he could. It felt so _good_. “You’d better put the next one on my mouth because that’s the only way you’re going to get me to behave the way you want.” 

“Oh, Sullivan,” Bartholomew said, resting his hand against Sully’s chest for a second. “Why would I do that when I can just let you keep digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole?” 

Sully shuddered as another band was put around his chest. “I’m…starting to see the appeal…” he said, breath short. 

“Thought you might.” Bartholomew leaned up and kissed Sully. “Now, let’s see how much it takes to get you to beg.”


End file.
